


And for now, that's enough

by squishyniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically just loads of angst, Blowjobs, Bottom Harry, Boyfriends, BoyxBoy, Cutesy, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Jay isn't around, M/M, Major Character Injury, Meet-Cute, Meeting the Parents, Smut, Top Louis, Zayn is the cutey best friend, money problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-15 05:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3435716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishyniall/pseuds/squishyniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis wasn't looking for love. </p><p>Harry found him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the meet-cute

**Author's Note:**

> Basically Louis has money problems and is looking after his entire family by himself and there's fuck loads of angst but then Harry arrives and happy days. 
> 
> Sorry if there's typos I'll fix them asap. 
> 
> OOh and it's my first story on ao3 but I've been reading on here for so long I feel like a local. 
> 
> anyway, enjoy xo

i. - the meet-cute.

The bass is loud and heavy and dirty and shakes the floor of the grimy nightclub. Louis' quiff has fallen down onto his sweaty forehead and he brushes it to the side, out of his eyes.

"There's no fit girls here," Niall protests from beside him, the loud Irish accent resonating in Louis' ear.

Louis shrugs in reply, doesn't really care if Niall isn't having a good time, because by God, there is one lanky, goofy boy dancing in the corner that Louis hasn't been able to take his eyes off for the past ninety minutes.

"Look at him," Louis breathes, too quiet for Niall to hear him over the cheesy Vampire Weekend song now playing.

His eyes are dragged away from the boy as Niall forces him into shots over at the bar, and then Zayn arrives with Perrie hanging off his arm and when Louis looks back around, the boy is gone.

❀❀❀

Louis hates his job. It's all filing and office work and having to be polite to tossers who think they're above him just because he can't afford designer clothing. But it's good money so he can't really complain. As long as it's enough to sustain himself and his whole army of siblings then it's good enough for him.

"Tomlinson, the printer ink?" Someone barks from beside him and Louis' head snaps to the side to see some pretentious, suit-wearing, balding man glaring at him.

"Yes sir, right away," Louis mutters in the politest tone he can muster before begrudgingly getting up to collect some new ink for the office.

He finishes up at work by six and is trundling to the bus stop before he remembers that he doesn't have enough change for the bus. He swears under his breath (okay maybe not under his breath; it's loud enough for the mother across the street to give him a disapproving shake of the head to which Louis flips up his middle finger) and spins around to walk home the long way. He won't even risk the shortcut - there have been too many muggings down at the underpass and he really can't afford a broken neck when he should be cooking his sisters' tea. He'll be late home, but late is better than dead.

At home forty minutes later, he shakes the snow off his coat and hangs it up on one of the hooks hanging on the peeling wall. The hook proceeds to fall straight off the wall and onto the ground down at his feet. Louis just shrugs and kicks the hook and his coat to the side; he'll deal with it later when he can't hear screaming coming from the other room.

"What the hell is going on?" He demands when he enters the small kitchen. His two oldest sisters, Lottie and Fizzy, appear to be attempting to throw fists at each other, but both turn sheepish and quiet as soon as they realise their brother's home.

"Fizzy overcooked the chicken!" Lottie immediately blames, and shoots a death glare at her younger sister who looks down at the tiled floor, her expression ashamed.

Louis raises an eyebrow. "Overcooked chicken is under no circumstance a good reason to fight. I don't want to see you being violent towards each other again, you hear me?" He warns, and the two girls nod before knocking their shoulders together in a silent apology and like that, it's all forgotten. Louis smiles at them, before clapping his hands together. "Now, I bet I can salvage that chicken."

But Louis quickly realises he definitely cannot salvage the food. A puff of black smoke hits his face when he pulls open the oven door and he coughs and wafts it away before dumping the oven tray on the counter and staring at the charred remains. The chicken isn't just overcooked, it's black as coal and probably as disgusting to eat, too.

He looks up into the two wide-eyed girls, the room silent and tense, before they all burst into laughter.

"How did this even happen?" Louis laughs, dumping what was once chicken into the bin. "Jesus Christ girls!"

But Louis' laughter soon turns to frowns and worried lip-biting as he looks in the fridge and realises there isn't any more chicken. In fact, there's no more food at all. That's when Louis remembers the reason he hasn't been food shopping is because there's no money to go shopping with, and he doesn't get paid till the end of the month. It's only the twelfth. Fuck.

"Um." Louis turns back to his sisters and tries to put a smile on his face. But they can see right through him (Louis needs to remember they're fifteen and thirteen years old, they're not as easy to convince as Daisy and Phoebe). "Why don't we... er..."

"We ran out of money again, didn't we?" Fizzy whispers, her eyes quickly filling with tears. "Oh god, I'm so sorry I ruined the food, Lou! I didn't mean to!"

Louis sees the tears and panics, shaking his head as he gathers her in a hug, swaying them from side to side. "It's not your fault Fiz, don't worry about it. We'll figure something out."

Over the top of Felicite's head he sees Lottie shake her head in anger and storm out the room, her holey socks sliding on the floor in her haste to get out of the room.

Louis pulls back and swipes his thumbs over Fizzy's cheekbones to wipe away the tears, smiling kindly down at her. "Don't worry about it babes, a ruined dinner is nothing to cry about." (He's completely lying of course, he kind of feels like crying himself. How is he meant to feed four young girls without any money?)

Daisy and Phoebe slide into the room in the next few seconds, and start babbling to Louis about what they did at school. Louis smiles and nods in the right places and asks all the right questions but inside, his brain is running full pelt. He feels like he could have a panic attack any second, his mind whirring through all the possibilities. There aren't many, though, and in the end he decides he'll have to do what he was trying to avoid - contacting Liam. Dread fills his stomach, but he doesn't know what else to do.

For now though, he finally interrupts the twins. "Right kiddos, it's cereal for tea tonight I'm afraid." The twins cheer and shove each other towards the cupboard, so at least they're happy, Louis supposes. (They're not so happy when they realise there's no milk to go with the cereal, but Louis just tells them life isn't all magic and rainbows and they accept that pretty easily.)

"Lotts, don't you want any food?" Louis says ten minutes later, peeking his head round the bedroom doorway.

Lottie's sat on her bed, twiddling her phone around in her fingers. She looks up at his question, shakes her head and then looks back down at her duvet cover.

"I rang Melissa and asked for my job back at the bakery," she admits.

Louis lets his head drop back and lets out a sigh. "Lottie, we discussed this. You know you don't have to do that."

"Yes I do have to do that!" Lottie snaps, her chest rising up and down quickly as she shakes her head at Louis. "You say I don't, but we both know that I really, really do."

"Lottie," Louis whispers, his heart constricting in his chest because if he's being completely honest, she's kind of right. He moves across the small room to plop down on her bed next to her. "Last time you took that job you were exhausted all the time and irritable and tired and your grades dropped and I don't want that for you."

Lottie snorts. "And you think I do want that? Because trust me, I don't. It wasn't exactly fun last time. But it's either I get a job again, or you start drug dealing and I'm not going to let that happen."

Louis stares at her in shock, his mouth trying to work but nothing's coming out.

"Go on; tell me you weren't going to call Liam as soon as the twins were in bed. Go on," she pushes, raising her eyebrows.

And all Louis can do is avert his gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what else to do," he admits because he will not lie to her. He will tease her about her braces and he will shout at her when she fails classes but he won't lie to her.

"Ant's brother Danny? You remember him?" Lottie asks, shuffling forward so she can lean her head on Louis' shoulder.

Louis nods in response, "Zayn's friends with Ant, I think," he says quietly.

"He's just gone to prison for dealing. I was round at Josh's when the police collected him and there was smashed glass and screaming and guns fired and I was terrified. I don't want that to happen to you, Lou. What am I meant to do if that happens to you? I can't look after the other three on my own." Lottie's voice is steady, the only giveaway that she's crying is the teardrops Louis sees fall onto her skirt. "I don't know what we'd do without you. We wouldn't survive. That's why you can't call Liam and that's why I have to work at the bakery again."

Louis knows he can't argue with her; sometimes he forgets how smart she is, that she's not just a little girl anymore.

"I don't know how you did it at my age," Lottie admits. "I think about it sometimes and it scares me."

Louis doesn't quite know how he did it, either. But he just kicks her foot and says: "S'because I'm a genius. Nothing can stop the Tommo."

"Dork," Lottie laughs wetly, before wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Louis doesn't mention that she's got makeup smeared all over her face.

"Now," Louis says cheerfully. "Cereal?"

❀❀❀

Louis' next free night is two weeks later, and he's at the bar at a swanky hotel in town. They only got in because Perrie's working and Zayn can't bear to be away from her for a few hours. Louis rolls his eyes at the thought.

They're laughing and smiling and Louis' having a good time, especially because Cara from across the road said she'd take the girls tonight and Perrie's giving them free alcohol from behind the bar.

But then -

"Waaaaait," Louis frowns, his eyes following the boy that just entered the bar in long, bounding steps with a girl trailing behind him. "That boy... I think I know him."

The boy's got a head of brown bouncy curls, held back by a bandana with the American flag printed on it. His black jeans are as tight as leggings, and have holes in the knees that show milky skin that Louis wants to lick. (Wait, what?) Louis is positive he's seen him before; it's something about the way he moves - clumsy and yet enticing at the same time. And then he remembers the boy in the club from a fortnight ago and -

"Zayn! Zayn ! Zayn!" Louis hisses, slapping Zayn's arm.

"What?" Zayn pulls his arm away from Louis' assault and shoots Perrie an apologetic look for his best mate interrupting their conversation.

"I know that boy!" Louis says, not taking his eyes off Curly who's off at the other side of the room chatting animatedly with the girl he walked in with. "Well," Louis rethinks, "I don't know him exactly, but..."

"Christ, I can pretty much smell your hard-on," Zayn says, rolling his eyes.

Louis glances down to check himself. "Hey, I don't have a hard-on," he pouts. "Stop teasing me, I like him."

"Have you even spoken to him before?" Zayn questions, taking a loud slurp of his drink.

"Well no but -"

"Exactly, then you can't like him, Lou. You can want to get in his pants, but you can't like him."

Louis just pouts some more.

He spends the next forty minutes discussing which was the best Power Ranger with Zayn whilst (not so subtly) continuing to check out Curly boy.

Zayn ditches him to talk to Perrie, though, after a while, follows her around up and down the bar to continue the conversation while she gets people drinks.

Louis' started shamelessly looking the boy up and down, taking in every detail about him, not caring who sees because he's getting impatient now.

So when the boy finally realises someone's looking at him and glances up to meet Louis' gaze, Louis just cocks his head to the side and mouths, "Do I know you?" pointing to himself and then to Curly boy. (Louis' quite professional at picking up boys, he may or may not have gone through a bit of a slutty stage a couple of years ago.)

The boy's eyebrows furrow but he doesn't answer apart from biting his bottom lip and a shy shake of the head.

Louis knows he's won, knows he'll probably sleep with the boy later on, so he tries to smother his smirk and just shrugs his shoulders before turning to face the bar. And if he's showing off his beautiful arse a little, then nobody can blame him.

Louis' in the bathroom when Curly boy walks in. He comes to stand at the urinal next to him and Louis can't contain his giggle.

"Really?" He smirks at Curly boy. "Our meet-cute is going to be in the bathroom?"

Curly boy laughs quietly. His voice sounds low and husky and Louis wants to shove him up against the wall because he has dimples. "Afraid so. M'Harry. It's nice to meet you."

"Louis. I'd shake your hand but...." Louis gestures down to where he's peeing. Harry just laughs, the dimples popping out again.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Louis asks when they're both done and are washing their hands.

"And why should I agree to that?" Harry asks, hip bumping Louis out the way so he can get to the sink. He's cheeky, Louis likes that.

"Because my best friend forced me to come here with him and he's ditched me for his bartender girlfriend."

Harry looks unimpressed, but appears to be thinking about it just because he's a nice person. Louis wants to squeeze his cheeks and call him a cutie.

"It's completely not because I think you're cute or anything," Louis adds.

A grin stretches Harry's cheeks and the two boys giggle before heading to the door.

❀❀❀

Two hours later and Harry is definitely tipsy. Louis didn't mean to get him drunk (okay, maybe he did a little) but Harry's so different to what he expected. Normally, the boys he goes home with are muscly but boring, and can't hold a conversation for shit.

But Harry... Harry's fun and bubbly and he giggles at Louis' jokes. He not once tries to slip his hands into Louis' back pocket just to cop a feel and Louis finds that he actually really likes him.

Louis learns that Harry stills lives at home with his parents, and goes to UCL to study Business Management so one day he can run his father's firm. Louis makes sure not to mention too much about his family, doesn't want to scare Harry off. He does mention his sisters though, tells Harry how great they are, how clever and funny, and Harry's eyes go all soft and melty at Louis talking about the twins. Louis just shoves him and pretends the eye thing didn't completely capture his heart.

And then when Perrie gets off work and Zayn is coming over to grab Louis, he finds that he doesn't want to sleep with Harry. Well, he does want to sleep with Harry, he really does, but for once in his life he likes a boy enough to want see him more than once in his life; he wants to do this properly.

"So," Louis starts, rolling his eyes at Zayn who is checking the imaginary watch on his wrist, his other arm slung around Perrie's shoulder. "D'you think I can have your number, young Harold?"

Harry pouts. "M'not young, you're just old. And no, you cannot."

"No?" Louis repeats, his stomach dropping. He actually thought Harry liked him, too.

But then Harry grins and those damn dimples and he's saying, "Only kidding. Should have seen your face!"

"Twat. Gimme your phone before Zayn kills me, yeah?"

And that's that. Louis kisses Harry on the cheek and if he lingers there a bit too long (Harry just smells so good) then no one mentions anything.

Harry squeezes his hip and then he's gone, weaving his way back to whoever he came with.

Louis decides he's going to call him tomorrow.

❀❀❀

Louis doesn't call him.

In between work and the girls and scraping money for food, he doesn't have time. It's not like he's forgotten, most nights he kicks himself and thinks about how Harry might be disappointed, might think Louis' ditched him, and Louis hopes Harry doesn't think he's a dick.

Louis and Lottie haven't eaten some nights to make sure the others don't go hungry, and Louis' just grateful the twins get a free lunchtime meal at school. He didn't want to ask Zayn for money, but he came round one day to visit the girls and realised the situation Louis was in. He gave him a stern lecture about pride and then dumped thirty quid on the table. Louis sneaks muffins into his bag at work and buys himself a tea with the company credit card when his boss sends him out for a Starbucks.

Anyway, it's probably not until almost three weeks after that Louis has a day off. He cleans the kitchen and the living room and checks online that his paycheck has gone into his bank account. It has, and he does a goofy little dance around the living room to celebrate.

"Ahem."

Louis whips around at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Niall is stood there, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Uh, how long have you been standing there?" Louis asks sheepishly, his face flaming red.

"Long enough to see you shaking your ass in the air like a madman," Niall replies casually before bursting into laughter.

The two boys share the chips Niall brought over from the chippy at the kitchen table before Niall reveals why he's there.

"You need a night out, mate."

Louis scoffs, "A night out? I need a night in. I need sleep and food and some reality television."

"You don't even have a television," Niall reminds him and Louis just shrugs, reaching out for another chip. "Please man, Zayn said he'd have the girls. I need to go out, I've been bored as hell!"

"Yeah because you don't have a job," Louis laughs. "Daddy still buying you everything you want?"

Niall rolls his eyes and shoves a chip in his mouth.

"Come out with me?" Niall repeats, batting his eyelashes. It looks more like he's gotten something stuck in his eye than it is endearing.

"Oh dear Niall, I came out a long time ago. You're on your own on this one."

Niall just shakes his head and calls him a wanker.

❀❀❀

Louis ends up going out with Niall. In his defence, when Niall pulls out the puppy dog eyes, you'd have to be Jesus not to fall for them.

They end up back in the dark nightclub from last time, and Niall's promised he'd buy all Louis' drinks for the night so Louis' pretty content.

But content turns into shock and shock turns into delight when he sees a tall, slim boy doing the Macarena over by the DJ even though it's not playing. Harry.

"I'm going to catch myself a Harry, okay?" Louis shouts over the music but Niall's already chatting up the bartender (he tries every time they're there and she shoots him down every time) so Louis pats him on the shoulder and leaves him to it.

Weaving through the crowd is difficult, people are crowding him and trying to grind on him and he accidentally elbows one girl so hard in the stomach that she doubles over, but eventually he makes it to the group Harry's with.

His problem, though, is that one of Harry's friends seems to be about six foot three and is blocking little Louis' way over to Harry.

He's not quite sure what to do, so in the end he settles for jumping up and down in time with the beat. Each time he's in the air he peers over the tall guy's shoulder and tries to shoot a grin in Harry's direction. He must look ridiculous, a twenty two year old boy jumping and grinning and overall probably looking like he's on crack, but eventually it gets Harry's attention, so.

"Louis?" Harry says, shoving his friend out the way. At least Louis thinks that's what he's said, because they're blasting J-Lo so loud it's pretty impossible to tell.

"Hi!" Louis grins until he realises that Harry's not grinning at all. In fact, he looks pretty pissed off.

Harry raises his eyebrows, like he's waiting for an explanation.

"I'm sorry I didn't call," Louis shouts, but Harry's cupping his hand around his ear and shouting, "What?" so Louis grabs his wrist and pulls the curly haired-boy away from the speakers and closer to the toilets so they can speak properly.

"I'm sorry I didn't call," Louis tries again, tugging on Harry's wrist because he won't look at him. "Harry, I really am sorry. I've been so busy, right, I swear I have and that's not just an excuse because my life's just been hectic with work and my sisters and - " He stops before he can go blabbing on about how he's only eaten once in the past two days and how the hot water's probably going to run out at his house in the next week or so.

Harry bites his lip and looks up from the floor. "You said you'd call."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I am." Louis takes a chance and lets go of Harry's wrist so he can intertwine their fingers instead. It's ridiculous, really, how worried he feels that this boy he's only talked to once before is upset with him. It really shouldn't matter at all, but for some reason Louis' desperate to make things right.

Harry stares down at their hands and shuffles a bit closer to Louis.

"You're sorry?" He asks, his voice only just audible over the music. He's close enough that Louis can finally see the tiny specks in his otherwise clear green eyes.

"Yeah," Louis nods, squeezing Harry's fingers and pulling him a bit closer still.

"Prove it."

And... What?

"Prove it?" Louis repeats, staring up at Harry who suddenly has the most devious look on his angelic face.

"Yep," Harry says, popping the 'p' and fine, Louis thinks, I'll give him proving it.

So Louis goes with his instincts, and it doesn't matter that they don't really know each other or that Harry is wearing ridiculous brown boots that Louis hates and it doesn't matter that Louis has red alert bills waiting for him at home. All Louis knows at that moment is that he really really likes the boy in front of him and Harry's told him to prove it.

So Louis pushes the younger boy against the wall next to the bathroom door and kisses him. And it's probably not what a first kiss should be - it's rough and it's all tongues tangling and fighting for dominance and hips pushing into each other. But Harry seems to be enjoying it, what with the way he moans into Louis' mouth and pulls him closer with the hands on his waist.

They kiss and kiss and Louis grins into Harry's mouth because he's pretty sure he's forgiven.

"Bit excited are we?" Louis teases when they pull away for air.

Harry looks mortified and adjusts his jeans before hiding his blushing face in Louis' neck. Louis hugs him and they rock back and forth in time to the music for a while before Harry's gotten over the embarrassment to emerge.

He pulls Louis over to the dancefloor and back over to his group of friends, and one guy - the tall one from earlier - gives him a dirty look but Louis ignores it because Harry's pulling his back to his chest and they're grinding, and Louis gets lost in the music and the feeling of warm fingers gripping his hips under his shirt and the feeling that he really really likes this boy.

"You'll call this time?" Harry says when his friends are getting ready to leave.

Louis nods, and bites his lip while he thinks it over for a second, before leaning forward and kissing Harry again.

"Promise?" Harry says, gripping Louis' shirt in his fist and looking at him with those innocent green eyes.

"Promise," Louis nods, and he means it.

And for now, that's enough.

................................................................


	2. the first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots more Harry/Louis interaction and a bit of cutesy Zouis banter. Happy days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just eaten a pack of dark chocolate digestives and I regret nothing. You can thank them for me posting this chapter early.

ii. - the first date. 

The weather the next morning is grey and drizzly, but Louis wakes up with a smile on his face. He skips down to the kitchen, ignores the final notice letter screaming at him from the counter and flicks on the kettle.

The twins are at Zayn’s, but Fizzy soon joins him and then Lottie a little later on. Lottie keeps frowning at him and it seems she soon gets sick of Louis’ grin that just shouldn’t exist this early in the morning. She slams her mug down on the tabletop, “Honestly, Lou. Are you going to spit it out?”

“Spit what out?” Louis says innocently. He’s knows what she’s talking about, is just being difficult, but sometimes he thinks it’s good to play annoying older brother instead of worried mother like he usually does.

“Your cheesy smile? Your obnoxious, optimistic comments? What, you have really good sex last night or something?”

Louis spills tea all down his shirt. “Lottie!” He gasps. He’s about to reprimand her for talking about sex in front of Fizz but when he looks to the side Fizzy’s giggling into her drink and Lottie’s trying to stifle her giggles too so he lets her off. “No, I didn’t!”

“…But?” Lottie sasses, her eyebrow raised in question.

“But, I met a very nice boy and I am going to call him.”

Lottie just rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “You sound like a teenage girl, Lou. Grow up.”

“Wow, someone rolled out of the wrong side of the bed this morning. Late night for you too, Lottie?” Louis smirks, and then realises what he’s said and panics. “Wait, is there a boy I need to beat up? You didn’t really have a late night with a boy did you?” 

“I was at the bakery last night.” Lottie says as she dumps her mug in the sink, alongside what looks like hundreds of other dishes still waiting to be washed. “I was there until one a.m. cleaning up, I might as well have stayed there all night because I'm about to be late for my eight o’clock shift.”

Louis feels guilt pool in his stomach. He shouldn’t have gone out last night, he should have gone to pick Lottie up after her shift so her boss Melissa couldn’t take advantage of her kindness like always.

“Shit, sorry Lotts,” is all Louis can say.

“No worries.” She shrugs. “We both knew this wasn’t going to be fun, but money is money, so.”

Louis’ good mood from this morning seems to be quickly disappearing. In fact, he feels pretty shitty. He’s meant to be the one taking care of this family, he’s meant to be the one bringing money in so the girls can concentrate on school. His little sisters shouldn’t have to work and worry about bills at their age (he ignores the fact that he did exactly that at their age). He feels so angry with himself, such bitter disappointment that he hasn’t been good enough to give the girls all they need. Ever since Jay left, Louis vowed that he would bring in enough money for the girls to be happy. But he’s failed: true, he got enough for them to survive, but to be happy? It’s impossible. One boy paid six pounds an hour cannot afford holidays and cars and manicures. It makes him sad.

“Go call your boy,” Lottie calls as she’s walking out the kitchen, forcing Louis out of his reverie.

Louis follows the motions up to his room, his head still stuck in the memories and disappointments and he doesn’t really realise what he’s doing until –

“Hello?” A husky voice sounds in Louis’ ear and… Oh fuck. He’s called Harry.

“Uhm, er, hi. It’s Louis. From, er, the club? And the bar?”

He hears a rough chuckle and oh my god, Harry’s morning voice. It sounds like heaven. Louis wants to eat him. “Yeah yeah, I know. Hi, what’s up? What time is it?”

“Um, it’s half seven,” Louis says, glancing at the clock hanging off his bedroom wall.

“Half seven on a Saturday morning?” Harry asks, a glint of amusement in his voice. “Bit eager aren’t we?”

That’s when Louis remembers that not everyone gets up at this time on a weekend. He’s so used to getting up with the twins when they were younger and now with Lottie for her job that it didn’t even cross his mind.

“Shit.” He swears, running a hand down his face. “Sorry Harry, I didn’t think. I always get up early with my sisters… I guess I just didn’t think. Sorry, sorry. I’ll, uh, ring you back later? If you still want?” Louis feels like punching himself.

“Of course I still want,” Harry says softly, like he knows Louis’ beating himself up about it. “And you don’t have to ring back. It’s probably a good idea you woke me up, y’know, I can have a long, productive day now. Maybe you should call me every day, you could be my personal alarm clock.”

“I wouldn’t have to call if I'm lying next to you,” Louis says cheekily, finally getting some of his confidence back.

He hears Harry mock gasp down the phone. “Are you insinuating that I’m going to give up my body to you, Louis? I’ll have you know I am not easy.”

“Oh puh-lease,” Louis laughs, sounding way camper than he was anticipating. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have gone home with me that night at the bar?”

“Well… okay, maybe I would have.” He sounds so reluctant to admit it that Louis bursts out laughing.

“It’s only normal, Harold, dear,” Louis teases. “No-one can resist the Tommo.” There’s a pause, where Louis can hear Harry laughing breathily into the receiver. “Anyway, what are you doing today?”

Harry hums as he thinks. Louis noticed him doing it at the bar as well. It’s cute, along with everything else Harry does.

“I’m going to go to the music store,” Harry finally decides. Louis can just imagine him nodding his head along with his decision, his curls bouncing and all ruffled from sleep.

“Could I… Can I maybe come with you?” Louis asks, a bit nervously. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous. He’s never nervous.

“This isn’t our first date is it?” Harry asks, “Because that would be a really bad way to ask me out on a date.”

“No!” Louis’ quick to say. “No, not at all. I just think… maybe we should get to know each other, be friends maybe, and then I’ll ask you out? I just, I want to do this properly.”

Truthfully, Louis doesn’t want to ask Harry out just yet because he really does like him. And he thinks maybe Harry needs to see the real Louis, realise what he’s getting himself into before he agrees to go out with Louis. This isn’t to say Louis’ going to drag Harry into his nightmare of a life straight away, but he doesn’t want to deceive Harry in any way, doesn’t want Harry to think Louis’ normal when in reality he’s the guardian of four minors and probably won’t have much time to spend with him if they do date.

“Okay,” Harry says brightly, undeterred. “Meet you at the corner of Carr Street at one?”

“Okay, yeah. Yeah that sounds good. Yeah,” Louis stutters, mind still thinking about what Harry’s going to think when he finds out Louis’ main role in life is as a parent.

“Yeah?” Harry sounds like he’s laughing, and Louis only then realises he’s teasing him.

“Oh shut up, Harold. I was - ”

The phone conversation is interrupted by Lottie bursting into Louis’ room.

“Lou I’m going. I’ll be back at nine, okay?”

Louis asks Harry for a moment and then pulls the phone away from his ear. “Okay, Lotts. See you later.”

“And if I'm not back by nine… y’know…” She trails off.

“I’ll come get you. Promise,” Louis says firmly. He nods at her to reaffirm it, and she looks relieved. At least then her boss won’t be able to force her into working overtime with no pay. (Truthfully, Louis may have threatened Lottie’s boss last time she was overworked at the bakery, and it’s safe to say Melissa’s scared shitless of Louis now.)

“Okay, love you, bye!” Lottie calls, closing the door behind her.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Louis breathes into the phone.

“You’re close with your sisters, aren’t you?” Harry says. “You talk about them a lot. She sounded like you mean the world to her.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Louis mutters, not too keen to stay on the subject. He doesn’t want to scare Harry away. It’s probably inevitable sooner or later, but Louis would rather keep him as long as possible.

“Well, I'm going to shower,” Harry says. “I’ll see you at one.”

“Sure you don’t want me to join you?” Louis would add a wink if Harry was here to see it.

Harry giggles. “No that’s okay. Maybe some other time.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Harold.”

❀❀❀

Louis can see Harry waiting for him at the end of the street, at the corner next to the bagel shop and, coincidentally, Lottie’s bakery.

“Hey,” Louis pants when he reaches him, having jogged the whole way there. “So sorry I'm late, Daisy fell over and there was blood and panic and crying. Total nightmare.”

Harry just smiles at him. “Daisy is a sister I'm guessing?”

“Yeah,” Louis smiles back. How couldn’t he, Harry’s looking all cosy in a woolly jumper with a beanie on his head, little curls sticking out near his ears, and he’s just so attractive Louis almost can’t get over it.

“Let’s go?” Harry says, and hip bumps Louis to face the right direction. He immediately starts rambling on about the new records he wants to get on vinyl, and Louis catches Lottie’s eyes through the glass of the bakery window. She’s got her mouth dropped open and gives Louis thumbs up and then an ‘okay’ sign with her fingers, obviously approves of Harry. Louis has to stifle a laugh.

The two boys’ shoulders bump as they fight to get through the music shop door at the same time. The bell rings above the door and Harry calls out a hi to whoever’s working behind the counter, someone called Healy or something.

They browse the shelves for a while, each holding up a record to show the other when they find one they love or one they remember from their childhood.

It’s cute and it’s kind of domestic and Louis can’t ignore the fact that he’s never done this with anyone. His only friends are Niall and Zayn and he’s never really dated anyone properly before. It’s nice though, he’s enjoying himself, especially because it’s Harry he’s doing it with.

Harry asks to go for a coffee after they’ve spent ages in the music shop, but Louis deters the question by telling him it’s a nice day and they should go sit in the park, not inside at a coffee shop (if he was being honest, Louis would tell him that he doesn’t have any money to waste on coffee because he still needs to pay the electricity bill (if Lottie can’t use her straighteners she’ll murder him)).

So they lie down side by side on the grass in the park and the sun is shining down on their faces, warming them, and they can hear distant giggling coming from across the field. Louis thinks idly that maybe he should have put suncream on the twins before he sent them over to Cara’s.

“What are you thinking about?” Harry asks, leaning his left cheek on the grass so he can look at Louis.

“How ridiculous your boots are,” Louis teases, giggling as Harry’s plump lips form a pout.

“They’re hipster,” he sulks.

“They’re falling apart!”

“They’re well worn!”

“I like you,” Louis admits, “even with the stupid boots.”

“I like you, too.” Harry’s smile is wide and makes Louis forget who he’s been for the past eight years.

And for now, that’s enough.

❀❀❀

They continue to hang out, Louis and Harry, and it becomes more and more frequent as the weeks roll by. They hang out when Harry’s got time off uni and the one day a week Louis gets off work. They hang out when the twins are at Zayn’s and when Louis’ waiting to pick Lottie up from the bakery.

“Hey, Lou?” Harry says one Sunday when they’re sat under a tree in the park. It’s kind of become their place. Louis likes it because it’s free, and Harry likes it because he can watch the birds and point at them and pretend to know what species they are. (Louis always humours him, listens to his silly bird rambling and nods along in all the right places just to make Harry happy.)

“Yes Haz?” Louis answers. They’ve been sitting in silence for the past twenty minutes, just enjoying each other’s presence and watching little kids play in the fountain.

“Are you ever going to ask me out?”

Louis raises his eyebrows. “Nobody likes an impatient boy, Harold.”

But for once Louis’ joking can’t distract him. “No really, Lou. Are we just friends? You don’t have to ask me out… I mean, I like you. I like like you but if you just want to be friends I can do that, too. I just want to know where I stand.”

Louis sighs silently, because is this it then? Is this where Harry decides to have nothing to do with him?

“Harry,” Louis says, sitting up and pulling on Harry’s shoulder so he faces him. “I just… I do like you, okay? I really like you. As more than a friend. It’s just…” He breathes in a shaky breath because he doesn’t want to lose Harry, hates that it’s probably out of his control.

“Why are you nervous, Lou? It’s only me.” Harry’s frowning when Louis looks up and he hates that he can’t give Harry all he deserves.

“I just… I don’t really have enough money to take you on a proper date, y’know?” Louis breathes out. “I, uh, have some stuff going on at home and with the girls… I just don’t think I can afford to take you out to a fancy restaurant or to the movies and I feel really shit about it because I don’t want you to think I don’t like you and that's why I've been stalling. I'm really sorry, Haz..”

It feels kind of good to be honest, Louis thinks, but his chest still feels tight at the thought that Harry could just get up and say ‘see ya’.

But this is Harry, and Louis should know better than that. This is the boy who cried over a squirrel they saw get run over by a car, Louis should know he wouldn’t just run away.

“Lou…” Harry says, and then there’s soft hands pushing his chin up so Louis has to look him in the eye. “I don’t care if you're the poorest boy in the world. I like you and you like me and that’s all I wanted to know, kay?”

“Thanks, Hazza,” Louis smiles, and if anyone asks then he’ll deny that his eyes are getting a bit teary. “I’ll sort something out okay? And I’ll take you out properly, I swear it. Just… Just wait for me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees.

And for now, that’s enough.

❀❀❀

They haven’t kissed since that night at the bar and Louis’ started to think about it more and more and more.

He thinks about Harry's plump pink lips when he’s at work getting shouted at by his boss or being tripped up by the admin guy who apparently still thinks they’re in primary school. He thinks about Harry’s tattoos covering his tanned biceps when he’s running a bath for the twins and he thinks about Harry’s sparkly eyes every time he walks past grass or a highlighter or anything even remotely green.

It’s becoming a bit of a problem.

“Zayn, please! I promise I’ll get you something really good for Christmas?” Louis pleads.

They’re at Zayn’s house, Louis’ been at work all day and when he got to Zayn’s flat to pick up Daisy and Phoebe, Zayn mentioned how a customer at the corner shop (he works there when they’re especially low on staff) won two free cinema tickets on a scratch card and gave them to Zayn because she didn’t want them.

So naturally, now Louis’ begging Zayn to let him have them so he can take Harry out. Louis knows that Zayn most likely will let him have them, but he’s being an ass about it.

“I was gunna take Perrie to see that Two Direction film or whatever that god damn band is that she’s so obsessed with,” Zayn grumbles, throwing the girls’ stuff from the floor into Daisy’s rucksack.

Louis considers getting down on his knees and full-on begging. “Please, Zayn! You already got Perrie, she’s your girlfriend. I need to win Harry over! Or I’m probably going to be single and alone all my life.” He pouts, and looks up at Zayn through his eyelashes.

“Ugh fine!” Zayn relents, throwing his arms up in the air. “Fine, have the damn tickets. But I want the girls more. You never let me see them.”

Louis rolls his eyes as he snatches the tickets off the counter. “You see them at least twice a week, give me a break.”

“Honestly though Lou,” Zayn says, standing up and brushing off the dust from his knees. “If you're ever struggling...You know I’ll have them whenever, yeah?” He gives Louis a stern look, the look that says don’t argue with me. 

It’s easy for Louis to remember why Zayn’s his best friend.

❀❀❀

“Follow me, Mr Styles.”

Harry trails along after Louis, an adorable confused look on his face. Louis ignores it though, marching up the street, checking every few seconds to make sure Harry’s still behind him.

“Lou, where are we going?” Harry asks for the ninth time. “And why are you so dressed up?”

Louis’ pulled out the old suit for his and Harry’s first date (even if Harry doesn’t know that’s what they’re doing). The black trousers are too short for his legs and are a bit too tight on his bum, and he didn’t have a jacket but he threw on his old white button-up school shirt he found stuffed in the back of his wardrobe so at least it looks like he made an effort.

“Because, Harold.” Louis says, stopping outside the cinema. “We are going on a date tonight.”

Harry’s face lights up like this is the first time he’s ever seen a movie theatre. “Really?!”

“Really,” Louis smiles, pulling Harry by the wrist through the automatic doors. The inside is cool and air conditioned and is playing some weird music that’s probably intended to be relaxing.

“Now, stay here while I get the tickets, kay?” Louis instructs, giving Harry a look that tells him not to move.

He waits in line and then shows the cashier his vouchers for the free movie. The guy takes them and scans them and Louis waits nervously before the guy says they’re validated and what movie does he want to see? He picks a rom-com, knows Harry will like that even though he himself will either mentally mock the entire thing or fall asleep after the first ten minutes.

He goes on a whim when he gets back to Harry and takes his hand. Harry smiles brightly again, and Louis thinks that he might need to purchase some sunglasses because Harry’s baring great resemblance to the sun.

“Can we get popcorn?” Harry says, tugging on Louis’ hand like a small child.

Louis’ heart drops a little. He doesn’t want to disappoint Harry. “Um… I’m really sorry, Haz. I don’t think I have any change on me…” He sticks his hands in his pockets even though he knows it’s futile, rummages around even though he knows there’s no money in there.

“No worries,” Harry shrugs. “You paid for tickets, I’ll pay for popcorn.”

“No!” Louis exclaims a bit too loudly, getting some stares from the people in the queue for the food counter. He feels guilty is all, he didn’t even pay for the tickets and he’d promised Harry he’d take him out properly. “This is supposed to be your date, I should pay.”

“It’s not a problem, Lou,” Harry shrugs. “It’s like four quid, no big deal.”

(Four pounds actually is quite a big deal to Louis, but he keeps his mouth shut.)

“Only if you’re sure,” Louis sighs, disappointment swirling in his stomach yet again and reminding him that he’s not good enough for Harry. Can’t even afford to buy him popcorn for God’s sake! He vows in his mind that he won't eat any of the popcorn. 

Louis hasn’t been to the movies in so long, he feels giddy when they’re sat in the quiet theatre and the lights are dimmed and the chair is all plush and spongey. He thinks the last time he must have been was when he was fourteen, a year or so before his mum left. He saw the recent James Bond film, Casino Royale if he remembers correctly, and he loved it. Even then though, he couldn’t afford it on DVD. He smiles sadly to himself as he thinks about it; how it’s probably a good idea he didn’t buy it on DVD anyway because last year he finally had to sell the TV to come up with money for rent.

Harry distracts him from his thoughts. He munches on the popcorn like a baby squirrel, and his long curls keep falling into his eyes. When Louis asked why he hasn’t had them cut a bit, Harry made a joke about them keeping him warm. Dork. 

Harry smiles the entire way through the movie. Louis knows because he watches the boy next to him more than he does the screen. He keeps leaning over the arm rest to whisper theories about what will happen or what character will fall in love with whom. Louis thinks he’s absolutely, preposterously adorable.

It’s twenty past nine by the time the film finishes and Louis’ late for picking Lottie up. 

“Sorry I gotta run Haz, but Lottie’s at work and I should have been there a while ago, so…”

They’re standing in front of the cinema and Harry’s still grinning like a loon. “No worries, Lou, thanks for taking me out. I had the best time. Best first date ever.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “I very much doubt it but you’re sweet, so thanks.”

“Are you gunna…” Harry looks around to make sure no one’s paying them attention and then he gestures to his face.

“What?” Louis laughs loudly. Harry’s weird, Louis has no trouble admitting that. Good job he likes him so much.

“Y’know!” Harry hisses, face flushing a bit pink. That’s when Louis gets it.

“Oh, you want me to…?”

Harry shrugs, but his face is now full on tomato red so Louis takes it as a yes. He steps closer to Harry and grabs his cheeks in his hands, and then pulls Harry’s face down so Louis can reach (he still has to stand on his tiptoes a bit, though).

The kiss is short and sweet and chaste, but it’s cute and Harry’s eyes are sparkling afterwards so Louis takes it as a win.

“Thankyou for letting me take you out,” Louis whispers, giving Harry’s lips another peck before pushing him away a little. “Now I must be off.”

Louis spins around to face the left, then the right, then looks back at Harry who’s watching him in amusement.

“Uh, well, I never really come to this part of town. Which way’s Carr Street again?” he says sheepishly.

Harry chuckles, (Louis wants to poke those damn dimples,) and fishes some keys out of his pocket. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride.”

“You have a car?” Louis asks, only half concentrating on what he’s saying because Harry’s holding his hand again. His palm is huge and warm and soft and pretty much engulfs Louis’. Louis can’t help but have dirty thoughts about those hands.

“Yep,” Harry says, leading him down the road from where Louis asked to meet him to where he’d parked his car earlier on. “Here we are,” Harry announces, stepping down at the curb to unlock the car.

Louis tightens his grip on Harry’s hand. "This is your car?” 

“Yeah,” Harry says, glancing back to see Louis’ face white and his eyes wide.

“This? This is your car?”

“Um… yeah? Is there a… uh, a problem or something?” Harry’s understandably confused.

“I don’t feel bad for making you pay for that popcorn now, that’s all,” Louis mumbles under his breath, sliding in to the passenger seat once Harry’s opened the door for him.

He can’t believe it, is all. Harry, his Harry, the boy who wears holey jeans and worn out boots and strange bandanas on his head and sits in the park with Louis every other day, he owns a Range Rover. A Range Rover Sport. A silver chrome Range Rover Sport.

Louis doesn't know how this happened. He never knew Harry, or at least his family, was wealthy. Never even thought about it. It doesn't matter to him, of course not, doesn’t change the way Louis feels about Harry but still. He’s rich! Who would have known?!

“Nice car,” is all Louis can think to say when Harry hops into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. It purrs deliciously, that kind of expensive car sound that Louis adores.

“Thanks,” Harry says, giving him a quick smile as he backs out of the parking space. “Got it for my eighteenth from my parents.”

“Nice,” is once again all Louis says. (He’s desperately trying not to think back to his own eighteenth, when no one remembered it was his birthday. Not even Zayn or Niall. Not little eleven year old Lottie. Especially not his mum.)

The drive is silent, with Harry knowing where the bakery is so Louis doesn’t need to give him instructions for where to go. There’s some quiet Indie CD playing on the stereo which Harry keeps fast forwarding to the tracks he likes. Louis just watches the streets go by out of the window. It sounds ridiculous, but just like at the movies he can’t remember when the last time he was in a car was. He’s never had money to buy one and apart from getting the bus to work when there’s money, he walks everywhere. It’s nice though, Louis would love to have a car like this one day – with the big speakers and the heated seats and the black leather interior. It’s gorgeous and classy, and now he thinks about it, it fits Harry quite well.

But then they get to the bakery and Harry’s trying to offer Louis and his sister a lift home. And it’s not that Louis thinks Harry’s going to judge him because of where he lives, but in some ways Louis still really doesn’t want Harry to see the neighbourhood he lives in, doesn’t want Harry to see his little three bedroomed house that is pretty much falling apart, doesn’t want Harry to pity him. He also doesn’t want Lottie to interrogate him with questions about anything and everything, so he kisses Harry smack on the lips to shut him up and then jumps out the car, calling back that he’ll call him or text him or whatever comes first.

“How was your date?” Lottie smirks ten minutes later (Melissa, the boss, took one look at Louis and scarpered).

Louis sighs. “Zayn told you?”

“Yep,” Lottie continues to smirk, passing her bag to Louis so she can put on her coat as they walk. He doesn’t hand it back, just throws the rucksack strap onto his shoulder.

“Fucking Zayn,” Louis grumbles before giving in and answering her original question. “It was really good, actually. I like him a lot.”

“You haven’t scared him away yet with your ugly face?” Lottie teases, poking Louis on the cheek.

“Shove off.” He pushes her shoulder (making sure he doesn’t shove her anywhere near the busy road, of course. He's been playing mother for so many years it's all natural to him by now). “But no, I think he likes me back, but…”

“But?” Lottie gets out her phone and pretends to play about on it to make it seem like she’s not really interested. Louis sees right through her.

“He’s got a Range Rover, Lottie.” He whispers, like it’s some clandestine government conspiracy that must be kept secret.

“He’s what?” She gasps, staring right at him, all attempts at appearing indifferent forgotten.

“I think I'm out of my league here,” he admits. He hikes the rucksack strap higher on his shoulder and tries not to cry.

“Hey, hey, Lou, don’t be silly.” Lottie steps in front of him and forces him to stop. She takes the bag back from him (she knows he’s got a bad back but is too stubborn to admit it). She tugs on his ear lobe to make him look at her and then she says at him, words firm: “Don’t ever think he’s too good for you, Lou. I don’t know anyone else in the world, including myself, as strong as you, who could have solely taken care of their whole family since they were fifteen years old. He’s not out of your league. If anything, you’re too good for him.”

Louis does cry a little bit, then. Only a few short tears through watery laughs. He likes to think himself as not much of a crier, but his life’s been tough and sometimes a few tears are necessary. He kisses Lottie’s cheek and mumbles how she’s the best sister in the world. She rolls her eyes but her lips are tugged up in a smile and that’s that. They're all alive and well and Harry likes him and nothing much else matters.

And for the moment, that’s enough.


	3. truth revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so Louis freaks out like usual but Harry is a lovely person so he really shouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GOT TONSILLITIS. So annoyed, it hurts like fuckkkkk. 
> 
> Anywhom, enjoy the chapter. Kudos and stuff, etc, i still don't really know how stuff works on here yet lolool.

iii. - truth revealed. 

Louis and Harry go on a few more dates over the next couple of weeks. They still hang out all the time, but things have shifted a little, seem to feel more official. Chaste kisses have turned into making out in hidden areas of the park, and holding hands has turned into arms wrapped around waists, shoulders, wherever they can reach.

Louis’ never been one for feelings, for being soppy and making heart eyes, but even he has to admit he’s blissfully happy. Things aren’t perfect; they’re still running out of money at home, his co-workers are still pricks, Lottie’s still getting into fights at school, but Louis’ never had someone care for him like Harry does, and Louis feels like maybe he’s slowly falling deeper and deeper into that big four letter L word.

They’re on their fifth official date and they’ve been taking it in turns, so once again it’s Louis’ go. They’re at the café Niall works at (because Louis bribed him into giving them free food) and Harry’s munching on fish and chips whilst Louis’ chosen a burger. He hasn’t eaten this well in a good few weeks, and he feels slightly guilty that he’s eating this massive meal while the twins get soggy school dinners and Fizzy and Lottie are stuck with packed lunches, or in other words, whatever they could find in the cupboards at home. He makes himself feel better by agreeing in his mind that if he eats all this now, he doesn’t need dinner tonight and even breakfast or lunch tomorrow, probably, so the girls can have more food. It works, and he eats his burger with a grin on his face.

A dribble of ketchup slips out onto Louis’ chin and Harry laughs out loud, that loud goofy bark of laughter that Louis’ learned to love, and he leans forward to wipe it off Louis’ chin with his thumb.

“Lou, you – mmmpfh!” Harry says, his words cut off as Louis leans in and kisses his lips. “What was that for?” He giggles, wiping his thumb on a napkin.

“Dunno. Just felt like it. I like you, I guess,” Louis shrugs, suddenly feeling all shy. He tries to control the blush he knows is fighting its way onto his cheeks.

“I like you, too.” Harry leans forward so they can kiss again, but then Niall’s shouting at them from the back to get a room and they dissolve into a giggling fit.

Louis is ‘paying the bill’ (a.k.a. he’s chatting to Niall) when he gets the call. Harry’s gone to wait in the car out front, and what Louis’ come to learn as the 1975 is playing on the radio when Louis pulls open the passenger side door.

“Haz, is there any chance I can ask you a massive favour?” Louis says, jumping in.

Harry looks over, instantly worried at the tone of Louis' voice. “Sure, Lou. Anything.”

“My youngest sisters’ school just called and Daisy’s got the flu or something, I don’t really know because the nurse there is full of crap, but I need to go down and pick her up. I hate to ask, but is there any chance I can get a lift? The next bus isn’t for another fifty minutes and I can’t afford a taxi. I could walk but it’s gunna take me at least an hour and I don't want to leave her there in reception for tha- ”

“Louis, chill,” Harry shakes his head, starting up the car. “I’ll take you it’s no problem. Which school is it?”

Louis sends a silent pray up to whoever’s up there, thanking them for bringing Harry into his life.

They arrive at the school in under twenty minutes. Harry ignores Louis’ protests that he and Daisy will get the bus home, demands he’ll wait in the car for them.

Louis’ grateful, of course he is, but he’s terrified. Harry still hasn’t met his family yet, hasn’t seen his house, doesn’t know of all Louis’ issues. And now Louis’ going to have to reveal two of those right now and he’s so scared Harry’s going to think differently of him. But this is about Daisy, Louis reminds himself, focus on Daisy.

His nine year old sister is sitting in reception looking very sorry for herself. She’s clutching her stomach and telling the office lady that she feels like she’s going to vomit when Louis walks in. When she spots her brother, she runs over to him and starts crying a little bit, clutching onto his leg, her lip wobbling.

Louis signs her out and carries her to the car, even though she’s nine years old and Louis should be careful with his weak back. Daisy leans her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes, doesn’t even bother to ask why they’re in a stranger's car and why Louis’ done his hair all proper for once.

Daisy keeps her eyes shut when Louis buckles her in the back of the car and leans her head on the cool window. Louis checks her forehead with the back of her hand and sighs. She’s definitely got a fever, her cheeks all flushed and pink, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before Phoebe gets it too, and then maybe himself. He can tell it’s not going to be a good week.

Harry looks enamoured, though, when Louis slides back into the passenger seat. He shoots Louis a besotted smile and puts the car back in drive, shooting glances now and then in the mirror so he can check on the sleepy girl in the back.

“She’s your youngest sister?” Harry asks quietly, when they’re stopped at a set of traffic lights.

“Her and Phoebe are twins. They’re nine,” Louis says. He hasn’t talked about his family much in front of Harry, but he guesses he may as well be honest. If Harry’s going to be scared away then he’ll just have to get over it.

But Harry doesn’t push him. “She’s gorgeous,” is all he says, before he’s driving again, weaving through the streets in his massive car in the direction Louis has given him.

Louis’ heart beats faster and faster the closer they get to home.

Harry’s started driving slower the further they get into Louis’ neighbourhood. It’s the roughest part of town, and both of them know it. Louis sees how Harry’s eyes keep flickering to the button that locks all of the car’s doors, but he’s too polite to press it.

“Harry, I need to tell you something.” Louis can’t hold it in any longer.

“Yeah?”

“My house… me and the girls… Um, we’re not exactly the richest people, and my mum - ”

“Which house is it?” Harry says, cutting him off. His voice is stoic, but there’s something in its tone that Louis can’t quite grasp. He thinks it’s maybe anger, and it scares him down to the bone.

“Second on the left,” Louis says in a small voice. Daisy’s sleeping soundly in the back and Louis’ glad he’ll have a minute to explain to Harry that maybe he isn’t who Harry thinks he is.

Harry parks the car in front of the house and remains silent, giving Louis a chance to look at it properly, something he hasn’t done in a long time. It looks worse than he thought it did: the windows panes are dirty, the glass cloudy and after one teenage boy threw a brick through the living room window, it’s had to be boarded up with wood. The tiles on the porch roof fell off after a particularly bad thunderstorm and the door handle is held on with duct tape. The house looks tiny from the outside, kind of like a brick shed with two stories. Louis hasn’t had time over the past few years to care about what people think of him, but right now he’s feeling embarrassment like he hasn’t ever before. He can imagine how Harry’s seeing it, probably thinking that the house is dirty and unhygienic and Louis and his family must be disgusting to live there.

“Harry,” Louis says. His voice sounds pleading and shaky. “I know it looks bad, and I know no one wants to date someone who lives in a house like that, but it’s - ”

“Is that what you think?” Harry demands, head snapping to look at Louis. “You think that I'm going to judge you for the way you live?” Louis stays silent. “Well? That’s what you were going to say wasn’t it?”

He sounds mad and Louis doesn’t like it. He’s never seen a different side to Harry other than the bubbly, cheerful twenty year old who likes to make daisy chains and wear them around his head. But now his eyebrows are furrowed in anger and his green eyes look dark. Louis doesn’t know what to do.

“Harry, I - ”

“No!” Harry’s voice is raised but when he remembers Daisy in the back he lowers it again. “I can’t believe you’d think that of me! I thought you knew that better than that?”

Louis reaches over to take Harry’s hand but he pulls it out of his reach. Louis’ stomach feels like it’s resting on the ground. “Harry, please. I don’t think you're judgemental, I know you’re not I swear.” He’s pleading now, begging Harry with his eyes to forgive him. “I just, I was embarrassed okay? I couldn’t afford to take you out for coffee, then I couldn’t afford to take you out on proper dates, and I was mortified. I didn’t want you to see the house because I was scared then you’d realise that you deserve so much more than me. And maybe I was being selfish but I didn’t want that to happen because I really like you, okay? And I don’t want to lose you.”

Louis finishes off his speech panting heavily. He can’t remember the last time he breathed. He almost collapses with relief when he plucks up the courage to look up and sees Harry’s eyes have softened, back to the clear green eyes he’s grown used to.

“Lou,” Harry says, and his voice sounds so sad.

“I don’t want your pity, Harry,” Louis says. Pity is the one thing he hates most in this world. “Just please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, I’m sorry for raising my voice, ‘kay? I understand you had your reasons now.” Harry sounds and looks disappointed with himself, and this time when Louis takes his hand he doesn’t snatch it away.

“I’m sorry for keeping the truth from you. It’s just, this house isn’t exactly something to be proud of, is it?” Louis laughs a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

Harry squeezes his hand. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, either. Your house doesn’t reflect anything about the person living in it.”

Louis lets out a sad smile. If he was being honest with Harry, he’d argue and tell him that his house actually does reflect the way he is. It’s breaking and falling apart, much how Louis feels a lot of the time. It’s battered by the wind, just like how he’s been battered with everything life has thrown at him. But somehow, after everything it’s been through and everything it’s seen, it’s still standing. Just like Louis is. Now he thinks of it, maybe his house is something to be proud of after all.

“Do you… do you want to come in?” Louis asks quietly. He’s taking a leap of faith here, because his house is just as run down inside as it is out. But now Harry’s shown that he’s not running away, Louis doesn’t want him to leave.

“I’d love to,” Harry says. He squeezes Louis’ hand once more before letting go so they can both get out of the car.

Louis gets Daisy from the back and then tells Harry that if he’s worried about leaving his car out front he can put it in the unused garage. Harry tells him he’s sure it’ll be fine on the street but Louis’ not sure whether he’s being honest or if he’s just trying not to offend Louis.

Daisy’s a dead weight in his arms and he can’t get his house keys out of his pocket so Harry digs in the pocket of his skinny jeans for him. They both giggle like little girls because Harry’s hand is so close to his crotch and then Harry unlocks the house and they all pile into the dark hallway.

“It’s not much, I know,” Louis says after he’s laid Daisy down in her bed upstairs and is making himself and Harry some tea in the kitchen.

“No, it’s got character. I like it,” Harry says, and his smile is so genuine that a voice in Louis’ brain is ringing out in alarm and screaming at Louis not to let this one go. They’ve known each other only about three months or so, so maybe it’s a bit premature, but Louis thinks that voice in his brain is right.

Louis walks over to him as the kettle boils, wraps his arms around Harry’s thin waist and rests his forehead on his chest.

“You’re so nice,” Louis mumbles, his voice muffled by Harry’s plaid shirt. “And tall. Practically a giant,” he adds on, because he’s just noticed the top of his head barely reaches Harry’s chin.

“You’re so nice, too,” Harry says, “And I’m not a giant, you’re just a dwarf.”

Louis looks up in outrage. “Call me a dwarf again and I’ll kick you right in the crown jewels.”

Harry laughs. “You don’t wanna be doing that. You might get to see them one day if you’re lucky.”

Louis blushes. (Honestly, he never blushed before this dork came along.) “Ew no,” he teases. “I don’t want to go anywhere near your nether region, Styles.”

“Oh okay then, Tommo. Don’t pretend you didn’t get a semi when we were making out the other day.”

Louis’ mouth drops open and he chokes on air, ducking his face back into Harry’s shirt.

“Fuck off, you did too!” He sulks. Harry’s chest vibrates under Louis’ head as he laughs and squeezes his arms tighter around Louis.

But then there’s a weak shout of “Lou!” from upstairs and Louis has to push the warm, strong, inviting arms away.

“Duty calls,” he sighs and then he’s leaving Harry in the kitchen to go and check on Daisy.

“Hey babes, how are we doing?” Louis asks, sitting on the edge of Daisy’s bed. The curtains are shut but they’re so thin sunlight is still lighting up the room. He brushes his sister’s fringe away from her sweaty forehead as she takes a gulp from the water he just got her from the bathroom.

“Not so good,” she says in a small voice, shuffling forward so she can swing her legs over Louis’ lap and rest her head on his bicep.

“Think you’ve just got a virus, Dais.” Louis says. He’s totally guessing here, has no idea if he should take her to a doctor or just wait it out. But he at least has a little faith in himself; he’s looked after the twins on his own since they were two years old, he must have done something right.

“When will it be gone?” Daisy asks, her voice high and innocent and so trusting of Louis. His heart swells to know that she relies on him for everything in her life, but it simultaneously scares him shitless.

“Probably tomorrow or the day after,” Louis guesses. “Now, I’ll get you a cold flannel for your head and then what do you want to do? Do you want to sleep a bit more? Or maybe we can steal Lottie’s laptop and see if we can watch one of those films she illegally downloaded at Josh’s?”

“Yeah, film please.” Daisy says, so Louis helps her get changed out of her school uniform into something she isn’t going to boil to death in.

Before they go downstairs, Louis turns to Daisy and says, “Dais, my friend Harry is downstairs, so… just be nice, yeah? No theories about how I'm an alien or how one day I'm going to be permanently cross eyed, okay?” He crosses his eyes just to demonstrate and pokes out his tongue. It’s a sure way to make the twins laugh, always has been ever since they were little.

Sure enough, Daisy giggles. “Is Harry your boyfriend?” she says, hooking her finger through the belt loop on Louis’ jeans.

Louis just goes with the truth. “Hopefully one day.”

Daisy smiles up at him.

And for now, that’s enough. 

❀❀❀

When Lottie, Fizzy and Phoebe get home, Daisy is cuddled up in Harry’s side, the two both fast asleep on the worn out couch in the living room. Louis tells the girls to be quiet and not to wake them, and they all gather in the kitchen to start on dinner.

Fizzy’s done some cooking at school today in Food Tech, carbonara she says it is, so they cook that for everyone, Louis just happy that he doesn’t have to worry about running down to the shop.

It’s about six o’clock when it’s ready, and Louis goes to the living room to wake up Harry. He shakes his shoulder gently, and when the tall boy jerks awake, Louis lifts his finger to his mouth to gesture to be quiet. Harry slides the sleeping girl gently off him, and follows Louis out of the room.

“Had a nice nap, Sleeping Beauty?” Louis teases, grinning at Harry. His curls are all flattened at the back and sticking up in the front. Louis reaches up to sort them out a bit, and when he’s done he catches Harry looking at him with a look that he can’t quite decipher. “What?” he says, feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing, I just like you a lot,” Harry says, and his voice is so rough and low from sleeping. It may or may not be turning Louis on a little bit. “And I like your sister a lot too.”

“I think she liked you just as much,” Louis snorts, thinking back to how smitten Daisy had been with Harry. He was so good with her, too, helped her set up the movie and kept asking if she needed a blanket and let her snuggle into him even though she’s sick and most likely contagious.

“What’s for dinner?” Harry asks as he follows Louis into the kitchen. Suddenly three other pairs of eyes swivel to stare at him and Harry visibly shrinks back, hiding behind Louis like he’s a human shield. It’s actually pretty hysterical how terrified a six foot tall boy is of three young girls.

“Er Harry, these are my other sisters. There’s Lottie and Fizzy and Phoebe.” Louis points at each of the girls in turn. There’s complete silence, other than Harry giving a small wave and mumbling a timid ‘hellooo’.

But then Phoebe says loudly, “Yer a wizard, ‘Arry,” and the tension is broken, the whole room bursting into laughter, even Lottie who likes to take up the role of moody teenager most of the time.

They sit down at the table when the food’s been dished out, Phoebe and Louis on either side of Harry, then Lottie next to Phoebe and Fizzy in between. They start talking about Phoebe’s drawing of a horse she’s brought home from school that Louis has hung on the fridge whilst they all dig into the food.

There’s another tense moment of silence then, after they’ve all taken their first mouthful. The food… it’s disgusting. The spaghetti is slimy and overcooked and the sauce tastes like milk mixed with dirt. Louis didn’t even know it was possible to make pasta taste this bad.

Phoebe, Lottie and Louis immediately spit it back out onto their plates. Fizzy hadn’t even taken a bite yet, was too excited to see everyone’s responses on the food she’d made.

“Is it bad?” Fizzy cries, staring down at the pasta. “Was it really that bad?”

Everyone turns to Harry, the only one still with the food in his mouth. He’s chewing valiantly, seems determined to swallow the repulsive food.

“It’s not that bad,” he says around his mouthful of spaghetti. Louis knows he’s trying not to upset Fizzy, and somehow he likes Harry even more than he did just a minute before. “Honestly Fizzy, I'm quite enjoying it.” Harry smiles as he chews and chews, the grin plastered on his face like it’s been stuck on with super glue.

Eventually he swallows, and he noticeably gags a little, before chugging down Louis’ glass of water because it was nearest.

Phoebe starts to laugh so hard she snorts water out of her nose, and then Lottie starts laughing, and then Harry and Louis too, Harry looking apologetic even as he laughs. Fizzy pouts until she can’t help herself and giggles along with the rest of them. Harry keeps on apologising to Fizzy, telling her it wasn’t really that bad, but everyone knows it was so eventually Louis just kicks Harry under the table to make him shut up.

Unfortunately, Louis’ forgotten that Harry is the clumsiest, most uncoordinated person possibly on the planet, and Harry misjudges his weight, flying right off his chair onto the floor. His elbow knocks his dish of pasta as he falls, and then he’s lying on the kitchen floor groaning, spaghetti coating his body.

Louis laughs so hard he cries.

❀❀❀

Harry borrows some of Louis’ clothes to change into since his are covered in food. Louis’ a bit embarrassed to take Harry up into his room, but after seeing how Harry’s been with his house and then his family, he knows he needn't be worried.

Louis’ the only one who has his own room, Lottie and Fizzy share the bedroom nearest the bathroom and Daisy and Phoebe share the one opposite Louis’. His room’s small and cramped, just enough room to squeeze in a double bed and a bedside table. His clothes are on piles on the floor because a wardrobe’s not a necessity, and his bed’s unmade because he may play parent but he’s still a boy, and he’s lazy and can never be arsed.

There are posters of his favourite bands and photos of the girls stuck all over the walls, though, so at least that makes his room a bit more homely. There’s even an old CD player in the corner, and it might very well be Louis’ favourite possession.

“Hm… There’s maybe some washed sweats down here somewhere,” Louis says, as he rummages around, Harry flopping down on the bed, his curls bouncing around as the mattress adjusts itself to the newfound weight.

“They’re gunna be so short, I’ll look ridiculous,” Harry laughs from behind Louis, causing him to turn around and glare at the other boy.

“Stop implying I'm short; I'm not that small!”

Harry just laughs at the outraged expression on Louis’ face, so Louis stomps over to push at the curly haired boy’s shoulders in annoyance. But it kind of backfires, because as Harry’s falling to land in a lying position on the bed, he grasps Louis’ hips and now Louis’ falling too, landing right on top of Harry.

And then they’re kissing. Louis’ straddling Harry’s waist and leaning his palms either side of Harry’s head. He can feel Harry’s hands pulling his hips down towards him and Louis lets out a small groan when their crotches rub together. The friction’s magical, sends fireworks behind his closed eyelids. He hasn’t been intimate with anyone in so long, and now it’s Harry that he’s on top of, and Harry’s been so good to him, was so nice to Daisy earlier, and he’s just pretty much perfect. And suddenly, Louis can’t control himself. He wants Harry to know how grateful he is, how thankful he is that he didn’t just leave when he found out Louis’ at the bottom of the social ladder.

Louis starts to kiss urgently and dirtily, his tongue winning dominance over Harry’s and licking around inside his mouth. He grinds his hips back and forth experimentally, and the boy underneath him makes a choking sound, before the hands on Louis’ waist are gripping so hard they’re probably leaving bruises, but they encourage Louis to carry on and the pleasure outweighs the pain.

Louis pushes back for a minute to catch his breath and Harry looks so gorgeous like this – flushed and panting, his cheeks pink, eyes wide and glassy. He looks so young in a weird kind of way, innocent, and Louis wants to ruin him.

He starts kissing down Harry’s neck, sucking lightly but not enough to bruise. And then he decides what the hell, and with one hand expertly undoes Harry’s belt, pops the button on his jeans and slots his hand inside Harry’s boxers. Harry lets out a husky “fuck”, and then tilts his head back, his mouth open in a silent ‘o’ as Louis quickly starts to stroke his length.

It’s fast and filthy and everything that Louis’ craving. Harry’s so pliant beneath him, and Louis can’t help but to keep peppering his face with little kisses as he’s coming apart underneath him.

But then, just as Louis’ sure Harry’s about to orgasm, there’s a hand slipping inside his own underwear too. Louis’ hand stutters in its movement, his eyes squeezing shut. Harry’s hand is so big and warm and wraps around his entire length. He can’t breathe for a second, pleasure washing over him. But then Harry’s hips are pushing forward, and Louis brings himself back to the present, forcing himself to continue jacking Harry off as Harry does the same to him.

Harry comes first, spilling warm liquid all over Louis’ hand with a low groan in the back of his throat. Louis’ quick to follow, but gets a bit carried away and shouts “fuck, Harry!” as he hits his peak (he’ll regret being that loud later). He collapses on Harry’s chest, burying his face in Harry’s (spaghetti covered) shirt as he tries to catch his breath.

When they’ve both recovered, Harry forces Louis to roll off him, and then pecks his lips.

“Clothes?” Harry reminds him, and Louis remembers that oh yeah, he was meant to be getting Harry clothes to change into, not getting him off. He has no regrets though. He flashes Harry a grin and forces his wobbly legs to go find the sweats for Harry. He throws him a t-shirt with Leeds festival printed on the front. (He never got to go, but he always desperately wanted to. Maybe he could go with Harry one day?)

Louis’s fixing his ruffled hair as Harry strips off his stained shirt. He stares shamelessly at Harry’s long torso, the skin smooth-looking and dark tattoos contrasting beautifully with his pale skin. There’s a butterfly on his abdomen and two sparrows over his collarbone.

“Checking me out?” Harry’s voice startles Louis, who looks up to find Harry smirking at him knowingly.

Louis would normally make a joke but he can’t seem to find the words, so instead he steps forward and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist again, leaning up on his tiptoes so he can kiss Harry’s lips.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Louis whispers against Harry’s lips. Harry doesn’t seem to know how to respond, just bends down and kisses him back.

❀❀❀

Harry helps Louis run baths and clean up the kitchen and then he sits with Daisy for a while to keep her company while she still feels sick.

“He’s alright,” Lottie says, as her and Louis stand in the doorway of the living room, watching Harry try to calm Phoebe down as she bounces around her sleeping sister. It doesn't sound like much, but that's a pretty huge compliment if it's coming from Lottie. 

“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” Pride fills Louis at Lottie’s words and the scene in front of them. The first time he saw Harry, he thought he was fit, thought he’d be a good fuck. But now… Now Harry’s so much more.

“I know you think he is,” Lottie snorts. Fizzy giggles behind her. “The walls are paper thin in this house, remember Lou?”

Louis’ face goes white.

❀❀❀

“You wanna… maybe… like, stay?” Louis stutters when Daisy and Phoebe are finally in bed. Him and Harry are standing on the upstairs landing, just outside Louis’ bedroom.

“Always,” Harry whispers, intertwining their fingers and walking Louis backwards into the bedroom.

That night they cuddle up in Louis’ bed, wrapping the duvet tightly around themselves because the central heating’s broken. But it doesn’t matter because Louis feels warm all over, a lanky boy draped over his body and snoring quietly against his chest.

And for now, that’s enough.


	4. boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter is really just lots of louisandharry so enjoy :)

iv. - boyfriends.

 

The girls all become unbearably fond of Harry very rapidly.

He’s round the house more often now, just comes over to eat a couple of times or to help Louis with the girls on a weekend.

Louis tries to make sure it doesn’t turn into a routine though. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy Harry being there, because he does - seeing Harry interact with his sisters has quickly become one of Louis’ favourite things in the world. But there’s a few things Louis has to deal with that makes it difficult when Harry’s constantly at their house – like making sure there’s extra food for Harry which usually means that Louis goes without eating himself, gives himself extra small portions that he spreads over his plate so it looks like it’s full. (He suspects Lottie’s suspicious though; she gives him looks sometimes, the kind of look that says I know what you’re up to.)

Also, Harry’s started to ask difficult questions, like one day when they’re cleaning the plates from the table he says, “Your mum must work a lot, huh?” and Louis doesn’t want to lie to him, but it’s just easier than telling the truth. He replies with a mumbled “yeah something like that”, and then changes the subject. Louis knows it’s wrong to keep things from Harry, but Harry thinking that Louis’ normal kind of makes Louis feel more normal. He’s not sure if that even makes sense.

There’s another reason Louis doesn’t want Harry around at the house all the time… Simply because he’s selfish. Louis shares everything with his sisters – money and time and everything that he owns. Harry’s the only thing that’s his, and his alone, and he’d like to keep it that way for just a little bit longer.

It doesn’t stop the girls from asking about him though.

“When’s Harry coming round? I made him a clay bowl at school,” Fizzy says, dumping said clay bowl on the counter. It’s ugly and misshaped but Fizzy made it so Louis thinks it’s beautiful.

“Wow that’s great, Fizz.” Louis tries to run some water in the sink to wash the dishes, only to find there’s no hot water left. He’s curses himself in his head. He probably didn’t pay the bill quickly enough. He’s just had a bad day overall, really. His boss seems to be getting more and more impatient with him for no reason whatsoever, keeps demanding ridiculous things and yelling at Louis when his coffee’s not warm enough or the printer smudges the ink on the paper. His boss also said he thought he was either going to have to drop Louis’ wage or let him go once and for all. Louis’ not sure how they’ll survive if he does.

As well as work being hell, Lottie’s moody with him all the time, Daisy got over the flu and then almost immediately got tonsillitis, and Fizzy has to choose her GCSE choices which is something Louis doesn’t know much about so doesn’t really know how to help her. It’s just stressful, everything in his life is stressful, and like always he’s finding it hard to keep his head above water.

“No,” Fizzy insists, “the clay bowl wasn’t the point. I asked when Harry was coming round.”

Louis’ too distracted to concentrate properly on her question. “Uh… I dunno, Fizz.” He sifts through the pile of important documents he keeps on top of the microwave but he can’t find the water bill anyway. “Where’s that fucking sheet?” he mumbles.

“Language Lou,” Fizzy warns. “And I think the girls had some paper in the living room. They were bored so I told them to draw.”

The almost constant headache Louis’ had today gets worse.

“Phoebe, did you get that paper off the microwave?” Louis demands when he sees the girls sat on the ratty carpet, felt tips in hand, colouring over what is very obviously the water bill.

“Uh, yeah?” Phoebe says, glancing up and shrugging.

Louis barely ever loses his temper, but today’s just a bad day. “What have I told you about taking paper from the microwave?” he snaps, snatching the bill from the girls. He peers at it, but unfortunately the telephone number has been coloured over with brown felt tip, and it’s impossible to make out. “And now I can’t fucking see the number!” He shouts. “I can’t do anything in this house with all you lot around!”

The fact that Louis barely ever loses his temper is probably the reason why the twins take his shouting so badly. They both visibly shrink back from him and grab each other’s arms before scarpering out of the room and up the stairs. Louis hears sobbing and then the slam of a door and his heart sinks in his chest. He drags his hand down his face, almost wanting to cry himself. He’s been to hell and back multiple times in the past eight years, but has almost always managed not to upset his girls. He does everything to make sure his girls are happy and healthy and have the best life he can give them. And now he’s lost his temper and made them cry. He wants to punch himself in the face. With a brick, preferably. 

He takes a few deep breaths and drops the bill onto the floor. He goes upstairs, the creaky floorboards probably giving away his approach, and gently pushes open the twins’ bedroom door. They’re cuddled together on Daisy’s bed, staring at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis says, his voice coming out husky and raw with emotion. “I didn’t mean to shout at you guys, I’m so so sorry. Upsetting you is the thing I least want to do in the entire world.”

The girls just continue to stare at him.

“Please forgive me,” Louis whispers. He repeats to himself in his head: I’m not going to cry, I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. “You’re my best friends, I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

Louis thinks they must sense his distress, because they both nod and Daisy pats the space next to her on the bed.

“We’re not mad at you, Lou,” Phoebe says softly, smiling at him when he sits on the mattress.

“Yeah, we forgive you,” Daisy says, leaning forward to kiss Louis’ cheek.

Louis shuffles backwards so he can sit in between the nine year olds with his back leaning against the wall. “I’m so sorry babes. You know I’d never shout at you and mean it. I’ve just had a hard week. But I know that’s no excuse.”

The girls don’t reply, just both lean their heads on Louis’ shoulders. Louis thinks he might cry again. He probably would, except he’s never cried in front of the twins. Not once. Not ever. It’s a vow he made to himself when Jay left and he hasn’t broken it in eight years, so he’s not going to start now. He’s probably going to lose his job and he’s probably going to struggle to feed the girls for a while and Harry’s probably not going to want to hang around for him forever. But he’s not going to cry in front of the twins. He refuses.

Instead, Louis bites the inside of his cheek and strokes Phoebe’s soft blonde hair as Daisy starts babbling about the cake she made at Zayn’s when she was ill. (Zayn works most evenings as a stripper (or 'exotic dancer' if you take Zayn's words) in a club downtown. It’s not his dream job, but it’s good money most of the time and Louis’ grateful for it because it means Zayn’s free most daytimes so he can look after the girls when Louis can’t.)

The two girls fall asleep after a while and Louis lies them down on their respective beds, too tired to wake them up and force them to take a bath. He’ll just have to remember to get them up extra early in the morning.

His phone starts ringing and he muffles the speaker with his hand so it doesn’t wake the girls, shoots them an adoring look, and then closes the door behind him as he moves out onto the landing.

“Hey,” he says, clicking the green button on his phone. (None of that swiping his thumb over the touchscreen business, his phone’s pretty much from the eighteenth century. He couldn’t afford an iPhone even if he sold his soul.)

“Hey Lou, haven’t spoken to you in ages. What’s going on?” Harry’s familiar voice drifts through the speaker and instantly makes Louis feel a little calmer.

“I’m pretty sure you spoke to me about six hours ago,” Louis says, as he moves through into his bedroom and collapses onto his bed.

“Well…” (Louis can imagine that Harry’s shrugging, his curls flopping around with the movement.) “Six hours is a long time, Lou. And we haven’t been on a date in a week. The last time I saw you just to hang out was Friday. Why are you avoiding me?”

Harry actually sounds serious, which is ridiculous. Of course Louis’ not avoiding him. Is he stupid?

“I’m not avoiding you, Haz! Are you kidding me?”

Harry doesn’t say anything. Louis knows he’s probably pouting.

“Look,” Louis sighs, wishing he didn’t have to deal with a sulky Harry right now. “I’m not avoiding you, I swear. I just have a lot going on and… I don’t know. I’m not coping very well I guess.” Louis can’t quite believe he’s just said that. He’s been looking after his family since he was fifteen years old, and he’s not once, not even in the beginning, admitted to someone that he was struggling. Not even to Zayn or Niall or Cara.

Harry sounds so concerned, Louis almost regrets saying anything. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Do you want me to come over? I give good hugs.”

Louis decides he might as well be honest. “What’s wrong? I shouted at the twins and made them cry. My back hurts like fuck. I think I might be made redundant because my boss is an asshole and I don’t know how I'm going to pay any of the bills if I lose my job.”

There’s a pause, before: “Lou…” Harry’s voice is soft and sad and worried.

“No pitying, Harry. Remember?” Louis’ quick to remind him. No pity. No crying. His two rules.

“Shit, yeah, sorry. Yeah. Right.” Louis hears Harry clap his hands. “Right, here’s what we can do. I don’t think you need to worry too much, ‘kay? Even if you lose your job, your mum can pay the bills until you get a new one.”

“Uh- ” Louis starts but Harry’s got his serious voice on and just talks over him.

“And I’ll help you look for a new job okay? We can go into some shops and stuff, hand in your CV. I can maybe ask Nick if there’s anything going at the music store. About the girls – I’m sure they forgive you. Your back though… I’m not too sure. Can you maybe afford a few sessions with a physio? I can recommend one that my mum went to. She said he was really good, so I’ll ask her for the number I- ”

“Harry.”

“Ooh sorry, Lou. What were you saying?”

“Nothing just…” Louis feels like he’s admitting vulnerability for the first time in his life. He’s not sure if he likes it. “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, if that’s okay? Can you just… can you maybe come over? Just… y’know…I understand if you don't want to.”

“Sure, Lou.” Louis can hear Harry grab his car keys. “I’ll be right over.”

“You’re the best, Haz.” Is all Louis says, before he hears the dial tone.

❀❀❀

Louis wakes up the next morning, reaching over to whack his alarm clock. His eyes are bleary but when he rolls over onto his right side he can see Harry sleeping soundly, his face stuffed into the pillow with his cheeks smushed together. Louis wishes he had a camera phone so he could snap a photo and keep the image forever.

“Hmppfh mm Louuu,” Harry mumbles, before letting out the cutest little yawn Louis has ever seen. He looks like a little baby lion. 

“Ssh go back to sleep, Haz.” Louis slips out of bed but leans over to pull the duvet back over him. The younger boy mumbles something incoherent again and then falls asleep with a pout on his face.

Louis smiles at him, can feel fondness burning through his veins. The two boys didn’t talk much when Harry arrived, just went to bed cuddled together, Louis taking comfort of having someone there to hold him and make him feel like everything isn’t falling apart.

He gets the twins up and then Fizzy, letting Lottie sleep in a little longer so she’ll hopefully be less snappy for the rest of the day. He runs the twins a bath and then leaves them in Fizzy’s capable hands, asks her to make sure they’ve washed themselves and their hair properly. He goes downstairs to start on breakfast, cheers mentally when there’s milk left. It’s cereal once again since the toaster almost blew up a few days ago and there’s no bread anyway. He runs the tap for a few minutes, since the water’s always gross and cloudy if he doesn’t. He fills cups with water for the twins and Fizzy, then makes himself, Lottie and Harry some coffee. While he’s waiting for the kettle to boil, his mobile phone rings. It’s work, telling him he doesn’t have to come in today. Dread fills Louis’ stomach as he asks whether it’s a permanent thing. The lady just says she’s not sure, but Louis should come in tomorrow as normal, but he should bring a box just in case he’s asked to clear his stuff out. Louis’ content mood from waking up next to Harry has seeped away to something more like terror.

But then the girls are stomping downstairs, Daisy and Phoebe cheerful and awake, Lottie still dressed in pyjamas looking half-asleep. Fizzy, always the sensible one, is shuffling around the youngest girls, fixing their collars and trying to tie their hair up while they’re bouncing around.

By the time the girls have gone to school, Louis’ exhausted and tense and wants to go back to bed. But the house is a mess and he needs to clean.

Harry appears in the doorway of the kitchen forty minutes later, whilst Louis is on all fours, scrubbing the kitchen floor.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Louis asks, eyebrows furrowing at the slight smirk on Harry’s face.

“No reason. Just would rather have you on your knees for another reason, if you know what I mean.”

Harry bursts into laughter as Louis’ face feels like it has burst into flame.

“Shut up please Harold,” Louis scowls. “I am hard at work here.”

Harry grabs the mug of cold coffee from the side and puts it in the microwave. “Why aren’t you at work anyway? I thought you said Thursday was your day off.”

Louis sits back on knees and sighs. “They rang and said I didn’t need to go in.”

“Shit, sorry Lou.”

“Not your fault,” Louis shrugs. “Got fuck loads to do around the house anyway so maybe it’s for the best.” (Louis’ lying of course, missing a whole day’s pay isn’t for the best in any way whatsoever. Even with Lottie’s money from the bakery, they seem to be struggling more than ever.)

“Can I stay and help?” Harry says, and Louis glances up to see the boy’s eyes sparkling.

“Uh, yeah? If you want to... Why do you look so excited about cleaning a house?” Louis gets up and stretches out his back. It aches so badly, has done for a while but he can’t afford any treatment or any medication, so.

“I like to spend time with you, that’s all.” Harry’s all smiles and dimples as he gathers Louis in a bear hug and starts swaying them side to side, Louis almost falling over from the ferocity of it.

“Woah, chill Haz, okay.” Louis’ laughing and pushing back from Harry. “Although, I thought you had uni?”

“It’s just a marketing lecture that I’ll fall asleep in anyway,” Harry shrugs. Louis doesn’t know if he’s lying or not, but if believing him means Harry will be here all day then who’s he to complain?

“Grab a mop then, go on,” Louis implores, “I could use a little help with this floor.”

“Yes sir!” Harry gives a mock salute, bows (Louis’ not quite sure why) and goes to grab the mop out of the cupboard under the stairs. (Louis also not quite sure why Harry knows where they keep the mop, but he tries not to give it much thought.)

They spend the rest of the day fixing up the house. Having Harry around makes Louis realise how lonely it really is when he’s at home by himself. Harry fixes the radio to some ridiculous indie station and blasts music through the house while they mop and dust and hoover. Harry helps him fix the hook by the door and uses his ridiculous height to change the lightbulb in the twins’ room. Louis makes a point to smack Harry’s bum every time they cross paths, then Harry starts doing the same, and somewhere along the way it turns into a wrestling match that ultimately leads to them making out on the living room floor.

“We’ve pretty much been dating three months now,” Harry says casually as they’re sat on the couch, taking a break. Louis’ made cereal again for lunch, apologies to Harry because they don’t have any other food in. Harry, always easy to please, grins like having cereal for both breakfast and lunch is the best thing in the world. It’s little things like this that remind Louis why he likes Harry so much.

“Three months? Wow.” Louis knows where Harry is going with this, but he decides to be difficult.

“Yeah… So, y’know…” Harry trails off and bites his lip. Louis sucks his lips into his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Harry looks so nervous, is all, and it’s both ridiculous and adorable all at the same time. But then Harry sees Louis’ face shining with mirth and whacks him. “Stop laughing at me, Lou! God, you’re insufferable.”

Louis lets out a laugh, then. “Sorry, sorry. You’re just so cute, s’all.”

Harry’s face softens so much that he physically can’t scowl at Louis. “Go on, then,” he urges, his eyebrows raised up. 

“Go on, what?” Louis’ teasing him still and continues laughing until Harry gives him a big pout.

“I’m growing old here!”

“You’re twenty!”

“Louis, for fuck’s sake!”

“Fine, fine,” Louis surrenders, and turns so he can face Harry properly. “Dear Harry, would you… perhaps… like to… make me a cup of tea?”

Harry throws his arms up in desperation and cries out, “You’re ruining it, Lou! You’re ruining it! I’m going to say no if you’re not careful!”

“Shit, okay, calm down, fine.” Louis takes a deep breath. “Right.” (He’s got butterflies, not that he’d ever admit it.) “Harold Edward Styles, would you do me the fine honour of becoming my official, proper boyfriend, even though you basically already are?”

Harry’s smile could light up the whole world. “I would love to be your official, proper boyfriend!” He shouts and proceeds to dive into Louis’ lap and starts kissing all over his face. Not even nice kisses, too; they’re sloppy and messy and Louis doesn’t have the heart to push him away.

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?” Harry asks when he pulls back, still straddling Louis’ thighs.

“Dunno.” Louis pulls Harry’s arms up around his neck to prompt Harry to play with the fine hairs on the base of his neck. He preens when he does, and then decides to answer Harry properly. “I guess I just… I don’t have much to offer you, ya know? Like, I have about a billion sisters and a crappy job and not much money. I didn’t know you’d want to be my boyfriend.”

Harry’s hands still. “Are you crazy?”

“Quite possibly,” Louis answers, even though by the way Harry’s started talking again he’s pretty sure the question was rhetorical.

“You have lots to offer me,” Harry’s saying. “You’re funny and ridiculous and I love your sisters. You put up with my weird habits and conversations and you listen to me ramble about music you don’t care about. That’s what you have to offer me.” Harry grins to finish, causing Louis to roll his eyes.

“Jeez, I sound incredible,” Louis says, sarcasm heavy.

“You are,” Harry insists leaning down to peck Louis’ lips. “I like you a lot, kay?”

Louis just feigns nonchalance. “You’re not so bad yourself, I guess.”

Harry pokes him in his ribs, and the conversation dissolves into a tickling war.

And for now, that’s enough.


	5. weekend getaway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically a random chapter where harry and louis away for the weekend and have a stupid conversation about naming their children larry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the comments on this story have made me soo happy! thank you so much.

v. - weekend getaway. 

Louis and Harry have been ‘official proper boyfriends’ for six weeks when Harry drops round to the house unexpected. It’s a rainy Wednesday evening, the raindrops pattering loudly against the thin glass window panes. Louis didn’t end up losing his job that day – but his wages have been dropped by enough that the family have seen a noticeable difference. They barely turn on lights unless absolutely necessary, in an attempt to limit electricity costs. They share bath water if needs be, as disgusting as that may be. They didn’t get the central heating fixed; instead they all pile on hoodies as soon as they get inside and sit with blankets or duvets thrown around their shoulders. It’s not fun, but they have food so they’re surviving.

“Hello?”

Louis’ cutting up carrots in the kitchen to add to some stew he’s made. It was best option he could think of – cheap enough to make and hot enough to warm them all up. He hears Harry’s voice and then the door slam shut, and shrugs because he knows he didn’t invite Harry over tonight. He figures he’ll have to tell Harry that he can’t have his own portion of stew, he’ll have to share Louis’, because Louis doesn’t want the girls missing out on something so vital to life as food and he’s so hungry himself that he’s pretty sure he’ll pass out if he doesn’t get a meal in himself tonight.

“Hazza!”

Multiple pairs of feet stomp down the stairs and Louis can hear giggles and the smack of kisses come from the hallway. Harry appears a few seconds later, Daisy in his arms and Phoebe hanging onto one of his legs. Fizzy is walking in behind them, as cool and collected as always, but she has a grin on her face Louis only really sees when Harry’s around. He brings something out in the girls – something happy and loud and cheerful, makes them seem the age they would act if they hadn’t had to have grown up as fast as they have.

“Hey,” Harry says to Louis, who puts down the knife and swats Phoebe over the head to detach her from Harry’s legs.

“Hey,” Louis replies, leaning over Phoebe to kiss Harry chastely on the lips. “What’s up? Didn’t know you were coming round today.”

“I wasn’t meant to be,” Harry says, placing Daisy down on the floor. She pouts, but it’s quickly forgotten as she rushes over to Louis to steal some raw carrot. “But, I have something to ask you.”

“Hm?” Louis replies, too distracted to concentrate properly because he’s trying to wrestle Daisy away from the food before she eats it all.

“You have this weekend off work, yeah? In fact, I know you do, because you were complaining about it when I saw you on Monday.”

Louis turns to face his curly-haired boyfriend, eyebrows raised. “Yes… But I fail to see why you came round to ask me that if you already knew the answer.”

“No that’s not what I wanted to ask,” Harry huffs, “Give me a minute to explain will you?”

Louis sighs, but steps away from the counter and crosses his arms to show he’s giving Harry his full attention. "Sorry babe, carry on.”

“Well.” Harry’s smiling now, the big grin that makes him look four years younger than he is and makes those million dollar dimples pop out. Louis still can’t quite believe someone this attractive is his boyfriend. “I want to take you away for the weekend. Like to a hotel. For relaxing and swimming and sunbathing and just breaething in the fresh air in the countryside somewhere. Like, I know it’s random, but I just thought it would be nice and - ”

“Wait, Harry, stop,” Louis interrupts. He’s looking at Harry like he’s crazy. “You can’t be serious?”

Harry’s grin’s now nowhere to be seen. “No? Why would I not be serious? I didn’t think it was unreasonable to want to take my boyfriend away for two days.”

Louis shakes his head. “I have four young girls to care for, Harry. I have bills to pay and a house to look after. I can’t just leave for two days.”

Harry looks a bit irritated. “You’ve already paid the bills for this month. Your house isn’t going to fll down just because you’re not here for two days. And about the girls – well, Lottie’s almost sixteen. She and Fizzy can stay here on their own if they’re sensible, and the twins can go to Zayn’s, or maybe even Cara’s. Perrie’s if everything else fails. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“You don’t understand, Harry.” Louis turns away from him, picks up the knife and starts chopping up the carrots again.

“You’re right, I don’t understand.” Harry sounds definitely putout.

Louis’ feels like he’s getting angry and he’s not sure why. Harry just doesn’t understand. He can’t leave the girls, he just can’t.

Louis whirls around to face Harry again. He knows they’re probably about to have their first proper argument, so he asks the girls to leave the room until dinner’s ready. Fizzy nods and starts ushering out the twins who are giving the two boys inquisitive glances.

Once they’re gone, Louis strides past Harry in silence and shuts the door. Then, he goes to sit down at the table and gestures to Harry to do the same. But once they’re both sat down, Louis doesn’t really know what to say.

“I just don’t think you really get where I’m coming from,” he settles with in the end. “You're only twenty and you don’t have any younger siblings and I'm not trying to be offend you but you just don‘t understand. I have responsibilities here that I can’t just ditch for a weekend away with my boyfriend.”

Harry scowls, and Louis hates that he’s made his boyfriend mad with him. “You’re being horribly patronising, Louis. I’m only two years younger than you, I do know what responsibilities are. I just wanted to do something nice for you, but you’re throwing it back in my face. I just… I understand your reasons, but they don’t really add up. What’s going on? Why don’t you want to go away with me?”

Louis feels the anger seep out of him. He reaches over to take Harry’s hand in his own. He doesn’t have the energy to fight. “It’s not you, Haz. And I'm sorry for being patronising. I just… I’m just…”

Harry squeezes his fingers before shuffling his chair closer to Louis’. “What’s really up, Lou? It’s only me, y’know. You can tell me anything.”

Louis feels tears prickling the back of his eyelids. “I just… It’s hard for me to leave the girls,” he whispers without looking up from the floor. “I haven’t been away from them for a night in eight years. For the longest time, they were all I had in the entire world and… I just, it makes me nervous to think they’ll be on their own.” Louis doesn’t add that it terrifies him that his girls might think that he’s abadonming them just like their mother did.

“Oh Lou,” Harry coos, and then there’s strong arms lifting Louis up out of his seat. He lets out a girly shriek, and tries to cover it up with a cough. And then he’s sitting in Harry’s lap, warm arms around him holding him close. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you, I really thought I was just doing a nice thing.”

Louis feels guilty, and looks up to press one of his palms against Harry’s cheek. “You were doing a nice thing, it’s not your fault I'm a baby.”

“You’re not being a baby, Lou. It’s fine, I understand now. I’ll just give my parents the details to the hotel or something, they can probably go instead.”

Louis feels even wrose. “You already paid?”

Harry nods, but shrugs at the same time. “Yeah but it’s no big deal. Wasn’t too expensive so if it’s wasted don’t worry.”

“I do want to go, I do. It sounds lovely, just… I don’t know. It was just so sudden and I've never even thought about leaving the girls before.” The more Louis thinks about it, the more it sounds like absolute paradise to have a weekend away with Harry. He hasn’t left this town in probably around ten years, hasn’t seen green fields and countryside and somewhere different for so long it makes his head crave it.

“Maybe it would do you all good.” Harry squeezes his hip. “I’m not trying to pressurise you, but… I dunno. I know it would be good for you to get away from all the stress of being here. And maybe it would be good for, like, Lottie too. You know, she’s sixteen soon so that means in a couple of years she’ll be leaving for university. I know the twins wouldn’t mind a night at Zayn’s either, they adore him. It’s up to you though. Completely your choice, I won’t be sad if you still don’t want to.”

Louis knows that Harry was trying to make him feel better, but mentioning Lottie moving out has sent terror shooting through him. He’s pretty sure he won’t even be able to afford sending her to university. He knows Zayn has set up bank accounts for each of the girls that he puts a little bit of money into when he’s got extra, but it’s not his responsibility to pay for their education. Louis should be doing that.

But Louis decides to shut those particular worries away in a box in the back of his mind. There’s no point worrying about them right now when there’s nothing he can do about it. He would stop the girls growing up if could, but the fact of the matter is that it’s impossible.

About going away for the weekend though… Louis nuzzles his head into the crook of Harry’s neck while he thinks. Once he’s realised that leaving the girls isn’t the end of the world, he kind of really does want to go. He knows Zayn will take the twins, he’s been begging for them overnight for as long as Louis can remember. He knows Lottie can look after herself, that she’ll be okay with a night on her own with Fizzy. It worries Louis to think about the two girls being alone in a house at night, but Cara’s only across the road if something happened. Besides, at Lottie’s age, Louis was looking after two toddlers and two girls under ten years old. Louis needs to give them the benefit of the doubt - Lottie and Fizzy will be fine.

“I do want to go,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s skin. Harry’s pulse is racing under his lips and he feels horrible that he made Harry this nervous about talking to him. He wants Harry to feel comfortable asking him whatever, without being afraid of Louis blowing up in his face, like Louis just did.

“You do? Because you don’t have to just say that to try and please me,” Harry says, rubbing soothing circles into Louis’ back.

“No. You’re right about the girls being fine and the house being fine and the bills being paid.” Louis pulls back so he can see Harry’s face. “I’m sorry for going a bit stressy, it’s just I’d never even thought about the possibility of leaving the girls. They're the most important things to me in the world, you know?”

“Yeah I know,” Harry says softly. He kisses Louis’ forehead. “And we really don’t have to go if you’d rather not. Honestly. We can just stay here and stuff if you want.”

But Louis shakes his head. Harry deserves a fancy hotel and swimming and countryside air, not being stuck in this dreary house with his new boyfriend and four kids. “No, we should go. Really I want to,” he adds, seeing Harry biting his lip.

“Are you sure? One hundred percent completely sure?”

“Yes.” Louis kisses Harry’s lips. “Thank you. We’re gunna have a great time, I know it.”

“Yeah we are,” Harry agrees, a small smile lighting up his face. “Now, I’ll finish making dinner. You ring Zayn, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Louis stands up and stretches out his back before sticking his hand in Harry’s pocket and grabbing his phone. (His own’s run out of credit. He can’t afford any of that contact nonsense.)

“And Lou?” Louis twirls around at Harry’s voice. “If you change your mind, it’s no problem.”

Louis knows he doesn’t deserve someone as kind as Harry.

❀❀❀

Louis keeps fildding with the window swtich until Harry smacks his leg and tells him to be careful with his precious car.

It’s Saturday morning, and they’re driving out of town. They dropped Lottie off at the bakery and then Fizzy off at a friend’s until Lottie’s done with work. They then went round to Zayn’s with the excited twins. They stayed for a cup of tea and a quick chat, and if Louis locked himself in the bathroom and had a little cry at the thought of leaving his babies for two days and emerges with puffy red eyes, then no one mentions anything.

It takes an hour to get to the countryside manor turned hotel that they’re staying at. Louis feels euphoria seep through his body when they pass out of town limits. He sticks his hand out of the open window and feels free for the first time in a long, long time. He knows he’s got a silly grin on his face, knows that Harry’s watching him probably with a matching grin, but Louis just can’t contain it. He has a weekend alone with his boyfriend, a weekend alone with Harry. There’s no one he’d rather be with. 

“I think we’re here…” Harry mumbles, the GPS he’s got installed in his car telling him they’ve arrived at their destination. Louis mocked Harry for twenty minutes when the younger boy admitted he’d named his sat nav Connie and talks to her when he’s on lonely journeys.

“No shit Sherlock,” Louis retorts, smirk on his face. But it’s quickly wiped off when Harry turns the Range Rover onto a gravel road and they travel up the property driveway.

It looks… it looks like a Lord or a Duke or a King should live there. The hotel is a large, old brick building with a heavy oaken door. The car park out front is full of Mercedes and Porsches and Range Rovers like Harry’s. Louis’ even sure he spots a Bentley somewhere in there.

“Harry, what the fuck.” Louis says, but it isn’t a question. He thought… he thought it was going to be a small Bed and Breakfast, a cottage or something. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, what to say, doesn’t remember how to shut his mouth that is hanging open with shock.

“S’nice isn’t it? You like it?” Harry says, parking the car next to a convertible Louis doesn’t even know the make of, but he’s pretty sure it costs more than his house and his possessions altogether.

“Uh… yeah, it’s nice. But what are we doing here? What am I doing here? I live in a fucking shack, I don’t belong here!” Louis doesn’t know why, but he feels like he’s about to have an anxiety attack. He’s spent his whole life being judged by people, and while he ignores it most of the time, doesn’t let it get to him, he doesn’t feel like surrounding himself around those people on purpose. He’s pretty sure the kind of people that would ---- at this hotel are going to be posh and rich and therefore will look down on him. And Louis’ suddenly panicking.

Harry sees that Louis’ breathing’s picking up, that his face has lost a bit of his colour.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. It’s fine, you’re fine,” Harry soothes, leaning over the gearstick to take Louis’ hand. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it? Do you want to go home?”

Louis looks up to see Harry’s expression, and even though the curly haired boy’s main look is of worry for Louis, there’s a bit of disappointment in there, too. And it makes Louis feel bad, because he doesn’t want to ruin the weekend Harry’s obviously put a lot of effort into and has been exicted about. So he swallows his worry and shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s fine. Sorry. I just… I’m just not used to places like this, is all.”

“Are you sure? I won’t be angry if you don’t want to stay.”

Louis unbuckles his seatbelt. “No don’t be silly. It looks lovely, really. C’mon, let’s go check in yeah?”

Harry looks unsure, but hops out the car anyway. Louis takes a deep breath and just hopes that he doesn’t ruin the weekend with his inferiority complex.

❀❀❀

‘Holy fucking shit’ are probably not the most of eloquent words Louis could have used to describe the room when he firsts sees it, but that’s what he says.

The room is as big as Louis’ entire downstairs at home, with a queen-sized double bed as the main feature. The bed has about a thousand cushions on it, with a fur throw covering the duvet that Louis idly wonders if it’s as soft as it looks. The walls are decorated in deep red and gold and the carpet’s so spongey it reminds Louis of a bouncy castle.

Louis wanders into the ensuite as Harry dumps the bags on the ground.

“The bath is legit big enough to fit in three people,” Louis shouts through to the bedroom.

“Why, you planning on having someone else join us?” Harry calls back, before he jogs into the bathroom, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “Woah, it is nice, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm,” is all Louis says, leaning his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

“No problemo, Louis-o.”

Louis laughs and elbows Harry gently in the side. “Dork. Now, the guy at the desk said the champagne’s on the house. Let’s find that mini fridge.”

❀❀❀

Louis feels out of place when he and Harry enter the small restaurant joined onto the hotel. He’s wearing the same outfit he wore to he and Harry’s first date – the suit trousers and the white button up shirt. He didn’t have any proper shoes though, had to settle for his holey, mucky Vans. Harry said he looked handsome though, which boosted Louis’ confidence enough not to really care about if other people are looking at him disapprovingly.

Louis thinks if he looks handsome, then Harry must look like a God. His curls have been let loose from their normal bandanas, and hang gently around his face, making him look like a cherub. His dress shirt is green and brings out his eyes, and his black skinny jeans hug his slim legs magnificently. Louis can barely keep his eyes away.

“Reservation name, please?” The man at the desk says. He’s wearing a little apron that sticks out at the back and Louis thinks he looks a bit like a duck.

“Styles-Tomlinson,” Harry says, a blush fighting its way up his cheeks. Louis stares up at him and Harry refuses to meet his eyes. The concierge directs them to their table – a small square one with two chairs and a candle lit in the centre.

Only after they’ve sat down with their menus and a waiter has taken their drink orders are they left alone.

“Go on, just do it,” Harry groans, resting his elbows on the table and hiding his face in his hands.

“Do what?” Louis says, a grin on his face as he tries to contain his laughter.

“Tease me about the name thing.” Harry’s words are muffled by his hands.

“Oh I wouldn’t do that!” Louis exclaims, but he’s giglging. “Just didn’t realise you’d married us off already. What has it been, six weeks? Bit soon do you not think?”

Harry’s face is beet red when he lifts it out of his hands. “I only reserved our table under that because I knew if I reserved it under Styles you’d probably go on at me about how we’re equals in the relationship and give me the same lecture you did the other day when I told the takeaway guy to order the food under Styles.”

“I’m only playing with you, Harry,” Louis laughs, taking Harry’s hand over the table. “But just as a tip, let’s not think about marriage just yet, yeah?”

“It was just a joke!” Harry protests, snatching his hand away from Louis’ and crossing his arms over his chest.

“And kids. I know what you’re like about children, Styles, and we’ll be having none of them for a very long time, if ever.”

Harry’s face turns even more pink. Louis didn’t know that was even possible.

“What?” Louis gasps, all pretences gone. “You haven’t seriously thought about having children with me have you?”

Harry just hides his face again.

“Harry. What the fuck?!” Louis can’t help but laugh at little. It’s ridiculous is all. They’ve been dating for a couple of months, have been official for even less than that.

“No, okay, no. Hear me out.” Harry lifts his head from where he’d started banging it against the table. Louis just stares at him in amusement. Harry’s panicking so much his forehead has started to sweat. “My mate at uni, yeah, was saying how some people mash their names together if they have kids. So I thought about what mine and yours would be. That’s all. I swear! I wans’t thinking about actually having kids with you. We only just started dating!”

“Harry it’s fine, calm down, I believe you.” Louis laughs and hands Harry a napkin so he can wipe his forehead. “Anyway….” He says inquiringly when Harry looks a bit more composed. “What would our hypothetical children’s names be?”

“Larry,” Harry says with a straight face.

Louis snorts. “Oh my god, we are not naming our son Larry. You must be mad.”

Harry looks a bit offended. “Well the only other option was ‘Houis’ and I didn’t think you’d be too keen on that!”

Louis shrugs and leans back in his chair because the waiter has appeared with their drinks. “Hm, guess you're right.”

When the wine has been poured out and after Harry has done a ridiculous little tasting thing, swirling the wine around his mouth and making weird tutting noises before claiming it was good, Louis lifts his glass in the air.

“To Larry Styles-Tomlinson,” Louis says, smiling at the riducullusness of their conversation. They’re in the poshest restaurant Louis’ ever been in and they’re talking about having children. He can’t quite believe it. 

“Stylinson,” Harry mutters under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says quickly, downing his wine. “Now, tell me about the twins’ newest obsession with wanting a kitten.”

❀❀❀

The food is unlike anything Louis has ever tasted. Every meal on the menu sounded so fancy Louis didn’t know what most if it meant, actually had to ask Harry if it was written in English, so he just ended up choosing a random number and then counting down the list on the menu and ordering that one.

Whatever he’s eating though, is delicious. Louis can’t help but keep making moaning noises as he eats but it just tastes so good. He notices Harry gets a bit tense every time he does, that he’s started fidgeting and fiddling with his trousers. Louis smirks under his breath with the knowledge that him moaning is turning Harry on, so he starts doing it more and more.

Harry realises what he’s doing after a while though and calls him a little shit, claiming Louis will have to be big spoon if he doesn’t stop. That shuts Louis up quite quickly.

They’re waiting for the chocolate soufflé Louis’ been dying to try when he notices the middle-aged couple a few tables across from them giving them dirty looks. Harry and Louis have been holding hands over the table, sharing a few chaste kisses between courses, just being a normal couple really. But Louis knows this kind of people – the homophobic, closed-minded kind, the kind that expect you to change who you really are just because they don’t understand it.

Louis frowns and tries to ignore them, focuses instead on the speech Harry’s been giving him about the importance of using curl-taming shampoo. (Louis doesn’t know why he puts up with him, he thinks fondly.)

But after a while, Louis can’t quite ignore the couple. They keep staring and scowling and even clicked the waiter’s over, pointing over at Louis and Harry’s table as the man whispered in the waiter’s eye. Harry catches on quite quickly, too, but tells Louis to ignore them.

And Louis tries. He really does. But homophobic people, they make his blood boil. He hates how they think themselves superior just because of their sexuality. He hates that they think gay people should be treated differently, like they’re less worth than everyone else. And Louis will be damned if he let’s these horrible excuses for humans have a nice night after ruining their perfectly nice meal.

So Louis shuffles his chair around to Harry’s side of the table, and swings his legs over Harry’s lap. He grabs Harry’s cheeks in his palms and instantly crashes their lips together. Harry seems surprised but doesn’t pull back, in fact he seems to understand Louis’ actions and instead pulls Louis even closer to him, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue into Louis’ mouth.

The kiss is way too steamy for a public place, never mind a fancy upper-class restaurant. But that’s kind of the whole point, and when Louis removes his lips from Harry’s to catch his breath, he sees the kiss has had its desired effect. The couple across the room are looking pale and repulsed and Louis’ glad he’s ruined their meal like they’ve ruined his.

But Harry seems to not care that they can stop now; he’s kissing up Louis’ neck and twining his fingers with Louis’.

“Can we go upstairs?” Harry whispers into his ear, and his voice is so breathy and husky and deep that it causes Louis to look away from the couple and back to Harry.

When he does, he realises that Harry is… well, for lack of better words, turned on as hell. His eyes are wide and the pupils dilated, his cheeks rosy and flushed and his trousers… well; let’s just say those tight jeans hide nothing.

He is so beautiful, Louis thinks, and even though the kiss wasn’t meant to lead to this, well it’s not really a bad thing.

“Yeah,” Louis finds himself saying. “Yeah, let’s go.”

So the two boys find themselves running out of the restaurant and up the stairs back to their room and Louis didn’t even get to taste that damn chocolate soufflé he’d been so excited about. But that’s okay with him. Because what’s about to happen… that’s pretty okay with him, too.

 

And for now, that’s enough.


	6. problems.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SEXUAL CONTENT!! Don't read the first half if you don't like that kinda stuff (meaning two boys going at it). 
> 
> Basically they get home from the weekend away and then life catches back up to Louis with money and bills and work problems and the relationship may hit a breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter. Just sayin'

vi. - problems. 

The boys slam the door shut behind them, feet stumbling over feet and eyes closed as they kiss fervently, Louis pushing Harry back against the door.

"Clothes. Off." Louis pants, tugging at the bottom of Harry's shirt with his hands. They break the kiss for a few seconds whilst Harry rips the shirt over his head and then they're kissing again, breathing loudly, the room filled with the sounds of lips sucking on lips.

Harry's fingers dance under Louis' top and skim over his heated skin, and Louis giggles into Harry's mouth because it tickles. The curly haired boy uses the distraction to push himself away from the door and tackle Louis onto the bed, landing right on top.

"Oh no," Louis growls. "That's not where you belong."

Harry starts to laugh but it's cut off as Louis rolls them over, effective in his method to end up straddling Harry.

Their clothes are ripped off pretty abruptly after that. Louis can't stop running his fingers over Harry's toned chest and torso and all over his stupid tattoos. Louis tells him so, that his tattoos are daft, but Harry just kisses him to make him shut up.

"You sure you want to do this?" Louis breathes out against Harry's neck as he presses kisses up his throat.

"Yeah, I'm su- " Harry starts, but it's cut off by a moan as Louis starts sucking a lovebite near his Adam's apple.

Louis pauses then, lifting himself up with his hands either side of Harry's head. He smiles softly at Harry when they're eye to eye, the roughness and eagerness of the situation halted momentarily.

"You're beautiful, you know?" Louis presses a kiss to the tip of Harry's nose.

Harry just smiles up at him, his green eyes soft and warm. Louis can only grin back, fondness feeling like it's overtaking his entire body because Jesus Christ does he like this boy. This kind, sweet, young boy who doesn't have to put up with all the baggage Louis comes with, but does anyway, and still remains generous and kind and selfless through it all, not complaining once.

But the tenderness is broken when Harry lifts his hips up and friction races through both boys' bodies.

Louis' sliding down Harry's body without another word, kissing down his stomach and tracing the butterfly tattoo with his finger.

When he looks up, Harry's already guessed what he was going to ask, and a bottle of lube's thrown, hitting Louis hard on the head.

Louis scowls but Harry's giggling - and how can he be mad at that? Harry's lying there, all naked and pliant, his curls casting somewhat of a halo around his head - and yes, Louis definitely can't be mad.

They've never gone further than rushed handjobs and maybe one or two blowjobs in the quiet of Louis's bedroom, being sure to keep silent as Louis' sisters slept soundly in the next room.

It's only now, as Louis' fingering Harry open, that he realises how much of a crime keeping Harry quiet is. Because the curly haired boy makes the prettiest of sounds, small whimpers and urgent moans. Louis' delighted by it, keeps hitting Harry's prostate on purpose just to hear him. He doesn't know how they're going to be able to go home and do things quietly after this.

"Louis," Harry gasps, his chest heaving up and down quickly. "Lou, please. Hurry, please."

Louis thinks about teasing him a bit longer, thinks about maybe rimming him and making him come that way. But then again, they have plenty of time for that in the future, and truth be told Louis is gagging for it as much as Harry is.

"'Kay babe, wait a sec," Louis says, withdrawing his fingers. They're all sticky and he wipes them on the bed sheets, mentally apologising for whatever maid has to clean their room in the morning.

He slips on a condom and slicks himself up before pressing another slow kiss to Harry's lips, trying to calm him down a little so this lasts more than thirty seconds.

Louis pauses again, just for a few seconds. He's never really taken sex as a big deal before - it was always just something he did on a whim with one night stands or crappy boyfriends who lasted a couple of weeks. With Harry... It's different. Harry; caring, goofy, kind Harry: it means something now.

"Yeah?" Louis whispers as he lines himself up, praying that Harry understands what he means; that he's asking and wishing and hoping that Harry wants this too, and that Harry knows this isn't just sex. In a way, this is solidifying their relationship. Louis' glad they've waited, glad that he didn't take Harry home with him that first night at the bar because this is special, and Louis hopes Harry feels it too.

Thankfully, Harry seems to understand. "Yeah," he replies, his voice a low, rustic whisper.

And then Louis decides enough with the sappiness, Tomlinson, and he pushes slowly into Harry.

It doesn't last an especially long time, to be fair. What with the way Louis pounds into Harry relentlessly, Harry's legs wrapped around his waist and Harry's nails a tracing down his back, neither of the boys can keep from going over the edge for too long.

"Lou!" Harry keeps gasping. "Lou - fuck. Fuck oh my god, there. There! Yes, fuck, Lou. Please!"

Harry whimpers when Louis balances more on his knees, and with his hands he pulls Harry's hips further up, changing the angle so Louis can reach Harry's prostate with every quick and decisive jab of his own hips.

Harry pulls him down for a kiss when it all gets too much, and the friction of his cock rubbing against Louis' tummy marks the end.

"Lou, I'm gunna... I'm gunna -"

"Go on," Louis says, his voice surprising him by coming out more like a growl than a human voice. "You can come, Haz."

And Harry does. And Louis thinks he's magnificent; Harry's flushed cheeks hollow as his mouth forms a silent 'o', his back arching and his hole squeezing. Louis thinks he has never seen anything so beautiful.

But he doesn't have much time to take a mental picture, because then Louis can't help himself and he's coming too, filling the condom before he collapses on Harry's chest.

Louis' small body is lifted up and down with the movement of Harry's heavy breathing, and Harry starts giggling.

"You should not be able to bloody giggle after an orgasm like that," Louis says, exhaustion hitting him as he tries to fly his head to look at Harry.

"You have come in your hair," Harry explains, eliciting a short gasp from Louis.

"Bastard!" Louis says, but he's smiling and and he can't even be arsed to go and wash it out. He snuggles into Hadry's side, throws a leg over his waist. "Goodnight, Mr Four Nipples."

"Goodnight dwarf man."

Harry gets a slap on the chest before the two boys fall alseep, limbs intertwined, breathing in sync.

And for now, that's enough. 

 

❀❀❀

The drive back home is mostly silent, similar to the drive the way there. Louis and Harry sneak glances at each other, both boys blushing and smiling as they think about the previous nights' events. Louis had woken up with the curly haired boy still wrapped around him, and he thinks he wouldn't rather have it any other way.

"Did you have a good time this weekend?" Harry says when they're a few minutes away from Zayn's place. His voice is light and casual, but by now Louis knows him too well, can see that how he's struggling not to bite his lip and how he's gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, his knuckles tense. Louis knows he's nervous, and it's ridiculous.

So he tells him. "Harry, you're ridiculous." He's smiling though, and the words are said with a crushing amount of fondness. Louis reaches over and takes Harry's hand which had moved to rest on the gear stick. "I had the greatest time. You don't need to be worried about if I enjoyed myself or not, because I was with you and I always have a good time when I'm with you."

Harry glances away from the road for a second to look at Louis in surprise. "You've turned soppy, Tomlinson!"

Louis just laughs. "Ssh, it probably won't happen again so enjoy it. Thanks for the past two days, really. I know I was unsure at first... But I'm glad I came."

"I'm glad you came, too." Harry's grinning. "In both senses of the word."

Louis smacks Harry on the arm (not as hard as he would have liked, but he is driving after all), but he can't stop from laughing along with Harry. He kisses Harry's hand then cradles it on his lap, and that's how they remain until they reach Zayn's house. 

 

❀❀❀

It takes a while to force the twins into the car and then collect Fizzy from her friend's, but eventually everyone's piling out of Harry's range rover and bustling their way into the house. Louis gives Lottie a hug at the door and at first she grimaces and tries to pull away, but after a few seconds she surrenders and melts into the embrace, whispering, "I missed you" into Louis' ear.

Louis' smiling because he's had a great weekend, his family survived without him, and now they're all together again happy and content. Plus, he had great sex last night. Mood is running high.

But it doesn't stay that way for long, because Lottie pulls Louis into the living room whilst Harry asks the twins to tell him all about their weekend with Zayn in the kitchen. She tells him in a hushed voice that she tried to use the bank card to get some money out at the ATM but it said that there were 'insufficient fundings', and that Louis' work called and told him they wouldn't need him in this week.

Louis pales, his good mood gone. He feels suddenly furious with himself, furious for going off gallivanting around the countryside with his boyfriend and forgetting that he has responsibilities, like bills and grocery shopping and most importantly children to feed. He can tell that Lottie hasn't eat since he left, because she keeps digging her left fist into her stomach, like somehow an outside force is going to trick her stomach into thinking there's something filling it.

Louis tells his sister there's nothing to worry about, aware he's lying through his teeth. When she leaves the room, he sits down on the couch, his head dropping forward into his hands.

He does the maths: he's missing a week of work, therefore missing eight hours for six days, each hour paid at six pounds. That's almost two hundred and ninety pounds that the family won't have. That's almost two hundred and ninety pounds that the family desperately need. Louis' stomach starts to curl, he feels like he might throw up. He already had final warnings from his landlord, and if he doesn't pay next month's rent on time then they won't have a house. His breathing accelerates at the thought, his chest heaving up and down quicker and quicker and quicker because they can't be homeless, he can't let his girls ever be homeless.

Before he has time to properly hyperventilate (and probably have a little cry), Phoebe rushes into the room, declaring that she tried to pull her ponytail out and now the bobble's stuck in her hair. Louis chokes out a slightly hysterical laugh, before beckoning her over. He gently begins to work the elastic out of her hair, being careful not to pull it too hard.

"Are you okay, Lou?" Phoebe says as she is finally freed. "You look sad."

"I'm okay Pheebs, don't worry about me," Louis says, lifting her so she's sat on his knees. "Just we might have to have another dark week, yeah?

Phoebe sighs but nods nonetheless. Louis thinks the twins are finally becoming old enough that they understand that a week without lights and electricity and hot water at least means a week with food. Louis hates that his little girls have to make such sacrifices.

 

❀❀❀

The next week, Louis barely sees Harry at all. He's busy budgeting and surveying the clearance shelves at every supermarket in town. He's busy trying to make cold showers fun for the girls and trying to cheer Lottie up when she can't use her straighteners. Mostly, he's busy looking for a night job, one that allows him to be at home until Lottie gets back from the bakery, and then finishes before he has to get the twins up for school in the morning and back to his day job.

He's desperate by Friday, funds running dangerously low, the twins and Felicite surviving on savers price mac and cheese and crackers and cloudy water from the kitchen tap. Louis goes to Zayn and Perrie only when he's exhausted all other options, when he's submitted an application to almost everywhere in town, and been laughed out of most of them.

By stroke of luck, Perrie pulls through, gets him a job working with her behind the bar at that fancy hotel and Louis couldn't be more thankful. It's only temporary but it's a job, and money is money.

Another week passes and Louis goes back to his day job, works nine till five and then takes the long walk home. He makes the girls tea, keeps a careful watch on Lottie to make sure she eats properly too, and then he walks her to the bakery. He goes home and helps the twins with homework and and bathes them and puts them to bed, and then he kisses Fizzy on the forehead and tells her to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. He walks past the bakery on the way to bartending, ensures Lottie is given the go ahead to go home by her overbearing boss, and then he walks to the bar, nods at Perrie and dons his apron. He spends half past nine till two am serving overpriced drinks to posh couples and businessmen. And then when his shift is finally over, he drags himself home, sleeps for three hours and then hauls himself up to wake the girls. And then he repeats just that, again and again and again. 

Through all the madness of the week, including Lottie almost fainting from lack of food and Louis getting no sleep from worry, he hasn't even had time to talk to Harry on the phone.

But Friday night, after Perrie's called to inform him that the bar want him to stay on for at least a few more weeks, he's in high spirits so he decides he can finally take time to call his boyfriend, maybe invite him over. There won't be food, but Louis has cuddles to offer and he hopes that's enough.

"Hey Haz it's me. I've missed you," Louis says as soon as Harry picks up the phone. He's sat on the porch steps, the sun setting on the horizon. He can see some girls cycling around at the bottom of the street and he stands up a moment to shut the front door. He doesn't want the twins to see; he knows how much they would like a bike. He also knows that he will never be able to afford one.

"You've missed me? Really?" Harry first response is a self deprecating, cold laugh. It makes Louis shiver.

"Um, yes?" Louis says hesitantly. "We have barely spoken the past few days and... I just missed you. Is that not okay?"

"I'm fully aware we've barely spoken the last few days, Louis." Harry's voice is still ice cold and emotionless. "You've been dodging all my fucking calls."

Louis' taken aback my Harry's harsh words. What... Why is he acting like this?

"Haz, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry but please don't be mad at me. I've had a hard week, s'all."

"You know what?" Harry speaks louder now, angrier than Louis' ever heard him. "You're not the only person in the world who's had a hard week, Louis. I've had a tough week too, made even better by the fact that my boyfriend decided to fuck and chuck me."

Louis suddenly feels like the floor's shaking beneath him. Why does he ruin every good thing he's ever had?

"Harry no," Louis pleads, desperate to sort this out. "I didn't fuck you and chuck you I swear. I've had money problems and I've been working day and night for days and I wanted to call you, God I wanted to call you so much, but the only hours I have free in the day are from two am to seven am and I thought you'd be asleep. Please don't dump me. Oh my god, please don't dump me."

Louis feels like he's about to break in half. He's not good enough for the girls, not good enough to feed them and provide them with basic necessities. And now he's not good enough for Harry either, not good enough for the one thing that's made him happy these past few months, the one thing that makes him feel alive and free and like a normal boy.

But then Harry's voice is soft again and he sounds the Harry Louis knows and the Harry he probably loves but just doesn't have the guts to say it.

"You've had money problems? You got another job? Lou, what's going on? Why didn't you tell me?" The last question is in a voice so soft and sweet and kind and it's a flip from the voice Harry was using a minute ago. 

"Work told me I didn't need to go in last week, Lottie told me when we got home," Louis admits, realising that the only way forward is honesty. "I didn't have any money for lights and hot water and I've barely been able to feed the girls. Lottie and I have mainly gone without." He winces, once again feeling crushing self disappointment. "Perrie got me a job with her at the bar, you know, the one we first talked at?"

Harry mumbles a "yeah," and it seems like he's just waiting for Louis to keep going so Louis does.

"So I go to work there at night until two and I still go to work like normal in the morning and I didn't fuck you and chuck you, Haz. I swear it down, I absolutely, positively promise. I really like you Harry and I..." Louis feels like he's fighting for his life here. He doesn't remember when Harry became so important to him, when the thought of losing the other boy could turn him into this panicked, babbling mess. "I don't want to lose you. I'm so sorry I messed up; I didn't mean to ignore you, life just was running away from me and I... Jesus. I haven't eaten in the past two and a half days. I can barely think straight. I know it's no excuse. I'm so sorry."

He hears the slam of a door and the clinking of some keys and then Harry says: "can I come over?"

"Please," Louis whispers, and then Harry hangs up.

He doesn't know if Harry's coming over to make up or break up. Either way, he doesn't have much more energy to flap around about it, so he leans the side of his head against the support of the porch roof and waits for his fate.

Turns out Louis must have fallen asleep because he's stirred from unconsciousness by gentle hands cupping his cheeks, soft hands tracing over his cheekbones. He mumbles something about his sisters and bedtime and then forces his eyes open and Harry's crouched down in front of him.

"Hi," Louis croaks out, voice rough from sleep deprivation.

Harry frowns at him. "You look awful."

Louis only winces, aware that he has bags under his eyes and his ribs are sticking out visibly under his ratty t shirt. It's only more noticeable now Harry's stood in front of him, looking all model-esque, like he's been ripped right out of vogue.

"Sorry," Louis says, doesn't really know what he's meant to respond to that.

"Cmon, let's get you inside." Harry stands up and motions with his head for Louis to get up too but Louis doesn't move.

"Please Harry, if you're going to break up with me don't do it inside. The twins and Fizzy are in there."

Harry wobbles on his feet, almost takes a step back, like Louis' physically hit him. "I'm not going to break up with you," he says, mouth hanging open. "Why... Why would I... What?"

Louis frowns up at him, squinting as the setting sun blinds his eyes. "Well I haven't exactly been the best boyfriend, have I? You said it yourself - I didn't respond to your calls and texts, I haven't seen you in two weeks, I look like shit. Why wouldn't you break up with me?" He laughs a short, humourless laugh. He wants to cry, honestly. 

Harry looks like he wants to punch Louis in the face. "Are you kidding me?! I was mad earlier because I miss you, Lou, and I was stressed with Uni work and I thought you'd had sex with me only to ditch me straight after, not because I want to break up with you. I don't want to break up, not at all. Sure, I'm a little pissed you didn't tell me about everything you had going on, because we're boyfriends and I want to be here for you. But I don't want to break up. If you still want me, then I'm here."

"I still want you," Louis says, although it's a half whisper. It's like the last two weeks have finally caught up to him and exhaustion's hitting him hard.

"Well, now that's sorted, can we go back to how things were? Please? I miss you, Lou. And I miss the girls."

Louis smiles sleepily. "I'd like that a lot," he says around the yawn.

"Right, now that's sorted," Harry makes a grimace, like the recent conversation is something he'd very like to forget, "Let's go inside. Please? You look shattered, babe."

The tightness in Louis' in his chest has dissolved completely by the time Harry's called him babe.

So Louis forces himself to his feet, pushing off the porch steps with the palms of his hands. But his legs are like jelly, wobbling and unsturdy, and he falls right back into his arse. He has no energy is the thing, can't remember the last time he ate or slept properly.

"Don't think I can get up," Louis admits with a huff of laughter. Harry frowns down at him, and Louis knows he's worried. "I'm fine, though, I am. Don't worry, it's nothing."

Harry doesn't listen, just bends down and sweeps Louis into his arms, carrying him bridal style into the house. And Louis wants to tell him he doesn't have to do this, that Louis' sure he can walk if Harry puts him down, that he's too heavy for Harry to carry and Louis doesn't want him to hurt his back. Louis wants to tell him all these thing, but the moment he's cuddled into Harry's warm, strong arms and enveloped in the smell of him that smells of home, Louis is fast asleep.

And for now, that's enough.


	7. teasing.

vii. - teasing. 

Louis wakes up not because he's sated with sleep, (he feels like he could sleep another thousand years,) but because his stomach’s grumbling so loud it's practically vibrating the sofa he finds himself on. And not only that, but the house is filled with this smell.... A smell that Louis doesn't really know how to describe other than completely and utterly fucking heavenly.

He gets up, his sleepy body swaying a little, and stumbles into the kitchen. Harry's there at the stove, wearing a ridiculous apron and a chef’s hat that one of the twins have obviously assembled out of paper. The smells distracting enough Louis doesn't even bother worrying if the hat’s made out of some important bill or document.

"What is that smell?" Louis demands immediately, Harry and both of the twins startle at his voice and whip around to look at him. Harry smiles and Louis smiles back, just because he's missed him a lot and he's so glad that Harry's here, in his kitchen. And most importantly, cooking what looks like a feast full of food.

"We have roast chicken and mashed potato and Yorkshire puddings and shit loads of vegetables," Harry announces proudly, before slapping his hand over his mouth after he realises he swore in front of the girls.

Louis looks around, stunned. But then reality hits him. "Harry, this looks great. Oh my god, this looks so great. But I can't afford this. We're going to at least have to save half of this for the rest of the week."

Harry stops him before he can continue. "It's fine, Lou. I didn't use your money; I went to Sainsbury’s on the way over."

Louis can't help but feel a little surge of relief at the fact that all the money hasn't been splurged on one fantastic meal. But then again, "Haz, you didn't have to do that. I don't want you to feel like you have to spend money on me and my family just because we're not well off."

Harry looks offended Louis would even say such a thing. "I can spend money on you if want, Lou, you're my boyfriend. And I don't think buying food for my boyfriend after he hadn't eaten for days is much of a crime."

"No of course it's not." Louis doesn't want to argue. "Sorry. I just… I'm not used to people doing these things for us." Eight years he's looked after these girls, and not once has someone cooked a meal for them other than Louis.

"Well, I love cooking. And I'm great at it too, if I can say so myself." Harry throws a wink at him, and then turns back to the hob to stir something. Louis thinks it smells like gravy. Oh please god, please be gravy.

"We'll be the judges of that, thankyou very much. Won't we girlies?" Louis says as he goes to join the twins at the table. They're busy with what looks like maths homework, and Louis knows they're cheating because Daisy is only doing the odd numbered questions and Phoebe is doing the even and they're obviously planning on swapping answers once they're done. (He doesn't stop them though, thinks it's quite ingenious himself, is more proud than disapproving. He sees more of himself in them every day.)

Louis watches the girls until they're done, apologising when they ask for help that he can't give. Luckily, Harry's there, and he's better at maths than Louis ever was.

Harry calls Fizzy down after a few minutes, and after feeling some major guilt, Louis asks Harry to please save a plateful for Lottie. Harry's one step ahead though, tells Louis that her plate's already in the microwave. When Louis looks, he sees that Harry's telling the truth, and there's even a sticky note stuck on the microwave door that reads: Lotts, made you some food! Heat it up when you get in for a couple of minutes in the microwave. Love, hazza x. Louis feels warmth seeping deep into his chest, how did he ever bag a boy as kind as Harry?

When everyone's seated at the table, Harry dishes out the food. Louis' plates piled high like a mountain and his mouths watering so much he keeps wiping at his chin to make sure saliva's not running down his chin.

"And here we have," Harry declares, puffing out his chest. "The famous, Styles' special gravy." He pours it over all of the food, and Louis can't wait any longer. He sticks his fork in the mash, scooping up some peas and chicken too, and stuffs it in his mouth.

And he moans. He literally moans it tastes so good, like fireworks are exploding in his mouth. Fizzy and the twins make noises equally delighted as they dig in, and Louis looks up to see Harry staring at him, an odd expression on his face, but Louis' too busy shovelling food in his mouth to ask him what's wrong.

Louis continues to stuff his face, and he's most certainly sure it's not an attractive sight, but he can't find it in himself to care. He keeps on moaning, keeps licking his lips obscenely to make sure no drop of gravy goes wasted.

It's only when he sees Harry slip his hand beneath the table that Louis understands why his boyfriend has been looking so uncomfortable all this time. The moaning, the licking, the pure look of pleasure on Louis' face, the pure look of uncomfortable embarrassment on Harry’s face... Harry's hard.

The realisation hits Louis like a train, and he almost starts cackling. The power of this knowledge almost makes him giddy. I mean, he has his gorgeous twenty year old boyfriend getting increasingly hot and bothered from across the table just by a few noises, can you blame him? Louis' smug, that’s what he is. And so maybe he starts moaning even louder, even more exaggerated sex faces made. Harry realises what he's doing though, and glares at him furiously.

When Louis does nothing to stop, and Harry's face gets redder and redder, Harry tries to stop him in a more physical way. He throws his long leg out under the table, obviously aiming to kick Louis, but misjudges the angle, and Fizzy lets out a loud "ow!" from next to Louis. Harry blushes even more, if that's even possible, and apologises profusely, offers to get her some ice. Louis decides then he better cut Harry some slack; as hilarious as it was to see Harry's best impression of a tomato, his boyfriend kicking his sister marks the end of his fun.

The two boys clean up when everyone's scraped their plates clean (Louis seriously thought about licking the remains of gravy off of his plate, but that's a bit far even for him). The two boys are silent, but Harry keeps sending small glares at Louis for the moaning thing and Louis has to bite his lip to stop giggles escaping.

But Louis soon gets a taste of his own medicine. He's washing the dishes in the sink (water’s cold but oh well) when someone clears their voice behind him. (Obviously he knows it's Harry. None of his girls have a gruff voice like that.)

Louis dries his hands on a tea towel and spins around to face his boyfriend. As soon as he does so, Harry's crowding into his space and grabbing onto Louis' waist, leaning forward and kissing him. It's quite an aggressive kiss too, his tongue slipping in straight away, and Louis' surprised but not unpleasantly so. He's missed Harry a lot, hasn't had the chance to kiss him in almost two weeks so this dirty, pressing kiss isn't exactly unwelcome.

But then Harry gets his revenge. He moves his body forward so it's in line with Louis', their bodies pressed together, touching from their chests right down to their knees. And then Harry starts to grind: moving his hips in hard, frustrating circles. Louis groans right into Harry's mouth and tries to pull him even closer, back arching for even better friction. But just as Louis feels his cock spring to attention, Harry pulls away and steps back so he and Louis aren't touching whatsoever.

Harry grins, bright and smug, and then sends Louis a wink. "Better deal with that before you come and see the girls," he says. Louis' mouth just hangs open as a Harry exits the kitchen.

Louis stands there for a while, just gobsmacked, before a slightly choked laugh escapes him. He's got a noticeable boner, one that's uncomfortable enough that he keeps on having to shift around in his tight jeans. He realises now that whilst giving Harry a boner at the table was fun at the time, ultimately it wasn't worth it. Especially since he's now been left with his own hard-on that he knows, since Harry hasn't come back to the kitchen, he's going to have to deal with on his own.

Louis huffs as he walks up the stairs, cursing Harry under his breath for being such a tease. He's throbbing in his jeans at the thought that his boyfriend is so close but is going to leave him to sort himself out on his own. The thing is, he probably wouldn't normally been this hard from just a few quick grinds, but he's been so busy these past weeks he's barely even had the time to jack off, and since his great sex with Harry a few weekends ago he's been admittedly horny.

He checks the time when he gets to his room; it's just past eight, so he's got about forty five minutes before he has to go and get Lottie and then head to the bar.

He slips his jeans down and then his underwear, sighing as he finally gets a hand around himself. He allows himself to think about Harry as he starts stroking himself quickly, knows he doesn't have enough time to take this slower like he'd prefer.

And then suddenly his bedroom door crashes open as it bangs into the wall, and Louis can't even open his eyes for a few horrified seconds. He panics, can't believe that he's been this reckless, can't believe that he's allowed one of his baby sisters to barge in on him whilst he was inappropriately masturbating just a few rooms away.

But before he's managed to open his eyes and apologise (or make up a lie about why his willy's in his hand if it's one of the twins), the door’s been slammed shut and someone's knocking his hand away before replacing it with their own. Long, slender fingers wrap around his cock and Louis chokes on air. It always feels so good to be touched be Harry, but even more so now.

"Couldn't bear the thought of you up here doing this when I could be doing it for you," Harry says into his ear, in a deep, gruff voice. Louis' so turned on that all he can do is make a high whining noise in the back of his throat. He leans his head on Harry's shoulder, his eyes still screwed shut, and grips Harry’s biceps so tightly with his fingers he pretty sure he's leaving nail marks.

Harry's hand feels so much better than his, long fingers gripping him with just the right tightness, warmth, speed. He's gasping almost straight away, legs shaking as pleasure rushes through his body. He comes after only a minute or so, come splashing all over Harry's hand as well as a bit on Harry's shirt. Louis' legs are so wobbly afterwards that he almost falls to the ground, but Harry's quick to help guide him over to sit on the bed.

"Fuck you," Louis mumbles as he's getting his breath back. He finally opens his eyes and Harry's are shining back at him, face filled with mirth.

Harry says, mock outraged, "I just jacked you off! Why are you being rude to me?"

Louis scoffs. "You were the one who made me hard in the first place!"

"You made me hard at the kitchen table! Surely I'm entitled to a handjob, too!"

Louis smiles at him then, relieved they're back to harmless banter rather than the proper argument they had on the phone. "As much as I'd love to give you a handjob, Harold, I'm afraid I might be late for work if I do."

Harry just pouts. "Later?" He says hopefully.

"I won't be back till two," Louis says, frowning that he's once again disappointing Harry. He honestly hates himself sometimes.

But Harry's undeterred. "That's okay, I'll just wait here."

Louis clocks his eyebrows up in surprise. "Really? You'll stay?"

"Yeah, if you want me to."

Louis feels tension he didn't know he still had from their argument earlier completely diffuse into thin air. "Yes," he says, almost pleadingly. "Stay. Please stay." Harry just smiles in response.

Louis gets ready for work with Harry on the bed, singing a pretty melody under his breath. He has a beautiful voice, and Louis thinks it suits him well. A beautiful voice for a beautiful person. He doesn't want to leave.

But he does, of course he does. Money is more important than listening to his boyfriend sing, as much as it pains Louis to admit. Harry promises he'll look after the girls, and Louis knows that Harry means a lot to him, then. Because Louis' only ever trusted the girls with himself and Cara and Zayn. Nobody else. There never has been anyone else. And although Louis already knew he trusted Harry with his life, trusting Harry with his girls is an even bigger life changing realisation.

Louis kisses Harry smack on the lips before he heads out, and if he lingers there longer than he was meant to, well then nobody, especially Harry, blames him.

He spends his bar shift glancing at the clock every five seconds in an urgency to get home. It makes him a bit nostalgic for a while, because it reminds him of when he went to school. He'd glance at the clock almost constantly, although not because he was bored like many of his classmates, but because he couldn't concentrate knowing he had to leave last period early to get Charlotte and Felicite from primary school and then he had to get home to pick up the twins from the Cara's and then somehow he also had to somehow find money to keep the entire family going, not only for food but for nappies and vaccinations and formula and a new pushchair for the babies. Louis doesn't think back to that time often: mainly because he has not the briefest idea how he made it through. It should be easier for him now, twenty two instead of fifteen, four young girls instead of two young girls and two babies, but somehow it's still as hard as it's ever been to keep the house paid for and food on the table.

Five hours, two smashed glasses, and uncountable rude customers later, Louis' done for the night. He kisses Perrie on the cheek and hangs his apron back on the hook in the small room behind the bar. He heads home, exhausted and drained, but with the knowledge that Harry's waiting for him, none of the bad stuff matters.

And for now, that's enough.

❀❀❀

Even the lack of sleep can’t sour Louis’ mood when he wakes up the next morning with a lanky giant sprawled across his chest. Harry’s somehow managed to manouvre himself in the night and although his legs are still on his side of the bed, his head is actually on Louis’ side of the pillow so their chests are pressed together and Harry’s lying diagonally across the whole bed. Harry’s peaceful, all angelic face and sausage curls as he snores, his bizarre sleeping arrangement enough to make Louis start to chuckle, and the vibrations from Louis’ stomach must wake up the sleeping giant because Harry mumbles something that Louis’ pretty sure sounds like ‘fuck off’ before said sleeping giant buries his face in Louis’ neck.

Louis doesn’t even care that he has to get up in seven minutes at the most, he just wraps his arms tighter around Harry’s frame and hugs him close, pressing a kiss to the messy curls on the side of his head.

“You’re so cute,” Louis whispers. The sun’s only just coming up and it feels like talking at a normal volume would ruin the moment. Harry just mumbles in response, somehow managing to defy the rules of physics and press himself even closer to his boyfriend. (Louis kind of feels like he’s being choked, but not enough to want him to stop.)

“I missed you,” Harry eventually says, his rough morning voice cracking in the cold morning air. It’s warm inside the duvet though, especially for Louis with his human blanket.

“I missed you, too,” Louis says, feeling oddly emotional. “So much, Haz.”

“Sorry for going off on one yesterday.” Harry’s breath is warm against Louis’ neck. “Didn’t mean to stress you out after everything going on.”

“You didn’t know,” Louis shrugs, shoulder nudging Harry’s head in the process. He makes a little grumbling sound, and Louis never wants to let this boy out of his sight.

But then something else occurs to Louis.

“Hey, yesterday didn’t you say that you had had a rough week too?” Louis questions, worry swarming up in his belly. He’d been so concentrated on himself and fixing things with Harry that he’d completely forgotten about what Harry had said on the phone.

But Harry seems pretty undisturbed, just presses a kiss to Louis’ neck. His lips brush against the pulse point as he says, “It’s nothing, really Lou.”

“No,” Louis argues, “it definitely is something.” He sits up, forcing Harry off his shoulder. The younger boy pouts but sits up and faces Louis anyway. “You know if anything is wrong you can tell me, yeah?” Louis presses, nudging Harry’s arm with his own.

“Yeah I know.” Harry grabs Louis’ hands, playing with his small fingers as he speaks. “But honestly, it really is nothing Lou. I only failed a class, that’s all. And i can retake it and re-do the exam in a couple weeks so it’s not really a big deal. Honestly. I feel like an ass even bringing it up now after... well, y’know...”

Louis shuffles his bum closer to Harry and presses their foreheads together. “You should never feel like you have to compare us, Haz. My worries and your worries might be very different but if you’re upset about something I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me just because I might be having money problems. I care about you and I want to help you if you’re upset. Yeah?”

Harry smiles softly, the left side of his mouth quirking up and he rubs his nose against Louis’, an Eskimo kiss just like the ones Louis would give the girls when they were young. “Yeah, thanks Lou.”

“No problemo, Hazlan.” Louis presses a quick kiss to the corner of Harry's mouth before pushing him away. “Now, time for work.”

❀❀❀

It definitely doesn’t get much easier over the next few weeks, but at least Louis’ bar job is bringing in a substantial amount of money, enough that the hot water stays on and electricity doesn’t have to be used sparingly.

Louis’ still tired all the time, barely has enough energy to force himself out of bed most mornings, but it’s not so bad because Harry’s there. Harry’s there in his bed when he wakes up, eager for morning cuddles and quiet conversations in the comfort of the duvet pulled over their heads. Harry’s there when Louis gets in from his office job, sat at the kitchen table with uni work and dressed in a woolly sweater, smiling like his whole day just got so much better when Louis walks in the door. Harry’s there when the girls are crying and arguing and fighting, helping Louis break up the kicking and screaming or merely just being a shoulder for Louis to rest his forehead on when everything’s too much. And then Harry’s there at night, at three in the morning when Louis' finally finished for the day. Harry looks so soft and warm and sleepy snuggled in Louis’ bed, looks so entirely loveable that it’s becoming increasingly harder and harder for Louis not to admit that he thinks he might be in love with this boy.

The only thing is... how can he say it? How can he admit to Harry that he’s in love with him, that it’s only been a few months and yet Louis can’t imagine his life without the bubbly curly-haired boy? Louis thinks it would be unfair of himself, unreasonable to tell Harry how he feels because then Harry’s stuck, trapped, might feel suffocated, like he’s being forced to spend the rest of his life with this boy and his four sisters who have no money and a decaying house and no high expectations for change in the future.

Louis doesn’t want to scare Harry away, doesn’t want to change what they’ve got, so he keeps his mouth shut.

But it’s just so hard. Louis’ nearly slips up every single day. When Harry’s made his tea just right in the morning, Louis nearly tells him he loves him. When Harry’s hitting his peak, abs sweaty and glistening and delicious, Louis nearly tells him he loves him. When Harry’s sleepy and pliant and curled up into Louis’ arm on the sofa, Louis nearly tells him he loves him. It’s becoming a bit of an issue.

Its like, Harry breached the walls of his heart like a little army of tiny Harry’s barricading up the muscle and forcing it to beat and sometimes all Louis can think about is him.

It doesn’t help that his bloody sisters can tell his boyfriend they love him when Louis can’t himself. Harry’s become pretty much part of the furniture now, spends all his time at the house, basically lives there dare he say it, and Louis knows if he and Harry ever break up then the girls are going to kill him for it.

Harry feels just the same though, as demonstrated a month after the accident when Louis gets yet another call from the twins’ school.

Louis’ at work when he gets the call, and he has to practically get down on his knees and beg his boss to please please let him have the rest of the afternoon off. His boy, the bastard prick that he is, declines Louis’ pleads and tells him he can't leave until after the meeting. Louis almost cries. It’s not like he’s even needed in the meeting; he’s pretty sure the guys can pour their own coffee if they have to. But Louis can’t afford to lose this job, has only just got the money issues on the right track, so he bites his lip from screaming obscenities at his boss and instead escapes to the bathroom to call Harry.

“Harry?” Louis says frantically when the ringing stops. “Harry are you there?”

“Calm down, Lou, I’m here, what’s up?”

Louis’ almost in tears. “Haz, the school called and i think Phoebe’s really hurt but I can’t get down there because I'm not allowed to leave work and I don’t know what the fuck to do, I can’t get fired but I need to be there, I think she’s hurt, they said she was hurt!” He almost can’t breathe, the knowledge that one of his girls is injured pressing on his chest so hard he thinks he might collapse. The woman from the school was so vague, only said that he must get there immediately as an ambulance would need a guardian to ride in the ambulance with his sister.

“Louis, take a deep breath for me, babe.” Harry’s voice is firm and calm and makes Louis’ head a bit clearer. “I’ll go there, okay? To the school. It’ll probably only take me a few minutes in the car and I’ll ride with Phoebe. I’ll ring you when i get there, kay?”

Louis loves him so much. But, “You can’t. I’ll be in a meeting.” Louis’ managed to get his breathing under control but tears are rolling down his cheeks. All he can hear is a little voice in his brain chanting, Phoebe is hurt, Phoebe is hurt, Phoebe is hurt.

“Okay, then I’ll text you. I’ll text you and let you know what’s going on and where to meet us when you get off.”

“Thank you so much Harry,” Louis whispers, his throat croaking around the massive lump that has built up there. “Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me Lou,” Harry says softly down the phone. “I’d do anything for the girls. And for you.”

Louis’ crying even harder. “Let me know, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll text you.”

And then the phone goes dead.

Louis spends a minute wiping his tears and blowing his nose and trying to stop his hands from shaking before making his way to the conference room. When his boss sees Louis and his puffy red eyes, he shakes his eyes like he’s repulsed by the sheer sight of him and then waves Louis away, telling him he can go after all since he’s obviously not fit for work. And Louis doesn’t care that this man’s been cruel and mean and malicious to him ever since he’s worked there, Louis just thanks his boss profusely, gives him a teary smile and then he’s off out the door.

Janine from marketing stops him at the door; she’s one of the only people in the office who bother making polite conversation with Louis. But Louis’ so desperate to make it to Phoebe’s school that he cuts in through the pleasantries and tells her he really really can’t stay to talk.

And Louis’ not quite sure how or why, but seven minutes later he’s slamming the passenger door of Janine’s car and yelling his thank yous over his shoulder as he sprints down the driveway of the school.

When he bursts in through the front entrance, he nearly collapses to his knees. He can see her, he can see Phoebe, his little precious baby Phoebe. And there’s no blood, and there appears to be no fatal head injury or limb missing. She looks awake and alert and alive. Louis thinks he might cry again, relief flushing through him like a tidal wave. But then he follows Phoebe’s wide-eyed gaze and realises the reason why she didn’t even glance towards his aggressive entry is because she’s so focused on his boyfriend. His very angry boyfriend, to be precise.

Harry’s shouting at the receptionist, his normal relaxed face contorted into anger, waving his arms around as he shouts, “Well why the hell wasn’t anyone surpervising her then?!”

Louis doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, his emotions having gone from being convinced his sister is dying, to pure relief realising she’s okay, to witnessing a red-faced Harry screaming at the school secretary. It’s quite amusing all in all, and Louis thinks it must be the sheer relief rushing through him making him feel drunk but he giggles.

The light laugh finally gets Phoebe’s attention and then she’s rushing over to Louis, her right arm held up by her left as she begins to softly cry.

“Lou,” she cries, digging her forehead into his stomach since she has no free arms to wrap around him. “Lou my arm!”

“Phoebs,” Louis says gently, pushing her away a little so he has enough to crouch down to her height. He kneels on the floor and pulls her left arm away gently. “What happened?”

“I think I broked it,” she says sadly, fat tears rolling down her rosy cheeks.

Louis pulls her in for a hug, careful of her arm and kisses the top of her hair again and again as he relishes in the fact that she’s okay, she’s here, she’s safe. Sure, she has a broken arm but it could be much worse.

There’s a large hand resting on his shoulder then, and Louis glances up to see a frustrated Harry sighing down at him.

“Fucking morons that work here, I swear,” Harry grumbles, only looking apologetic when Louis shoots him a glare for his language.

“What happened Haz?”

Harry rubs his palm down his face. “They said she was playing on the adventure park in the playground where there is,” he purposefully raises his voice, “SURELY MEANT TO BE SURPERVISION, and she fell off the barrels and obviously must have landed awkwardly on her arm. I think it’s broken, she was in a lot of pain when I got here.”

Louis can finally breathe properly again, knowing that the receptionist must have bloody overreacted on the phone, made it sound so much worse than it really is. He opens his mouth to talk to Harry but then there’s the sound of a siren of the ambulance outside and Harry’s marching back over to the desk where a group of three lunchtime workers are standing looking sheepish.

Harry goes off on one again, claiming that if there are no proper regulations put in to make sure his girls are safe then he will have to rethink where the twins are being educated.

His girls, he said. 

And that’s the moment when Louis really knows he’s completely gone for this boy. This silly, goofy, twenty year old boy who likes to wear flower crowns and dance around the kitchen has accepted him and his family so wholeheartedly it makes Louis feel dizzy. It terrifies him shitless. But at the same time it’s the best thing that has ever fucking happened to him. He loves Harry, he knows it. He loves him so much. And he thinks, maybe, if he's lucky, Harry might love him too. 

And for now, that’s enough.


	8. meeting the parents.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I want to clarify... I KN0W Anne and Robin are not like this whatsoever in real life, they seem like such lovely lovely people, but I just needed to switch their personalities for the story. It’s all FICTION! None of this happened in real life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii guys. i just want to say that im going to keep updating just like normal, and im trying to continue on as normal, because that's what you have to do with life, even when things feel horrible. 
> 
> but zayns gone. and im a little bit broken.

viii.- meeting the parents.

 

Harry’s pretty much moved in, even though neither boy will admit to it. Niall and Zayn tease Louis about it endlessly when he manages a catch up with them on one of his rare and precious days off, Niall saying that he can’t believe it only took some curly hair and tattoos to turn the Tommo into a sap. Louis smacks him, tells him he is not a sap thank you very much. But he’s blushing and everyone knows he’s lying, knows he would do anything for Harry if he so much as asked.

Harry is like the puzzle piece they didn’t know was missing, Louis thinks. He brightens up the house with his cheeky smile and his booming laugh, and he makes the girls happy with those god awful jokes of his. Louis can’t imagine not having him around. Doesn’t want to ever imagine a time where Harry wouldn’t be in their lives.

The curly haired boy has fit so effortlessly in Louis’ small world that it hadn’t even crossed his mind that maybe it doesn’t work so well the other way around. Until Harry brings it up, that is.

They’re in the middle of dinner, some spaghetti Bolognese, and it’s just like any other day. The twins are whispering to each other (most likely planning their next deathly prank, Louis thinks. He’s rather worried for his life if he’s honest), Fizzy is mopping up the drink Phoebe just spilled all over the table, and Harry is talking to Lottie. Well, interrogating her actually, to be more specific.

“What is that?” Harry says, his horrified expression alerting Louis to look up from where he was moving the plates to the side so Fizzy could wipe up the sopping table.

“Huh?” Louis follows the point of Harry’s finger… but all he’s pointing at is Lottie. “That… is Lottie?” He replies, amusement in his tone. “You know, my sixteen year old sister, moody pain in the arse sometimes, lived here forever?”

Harry reaches out to slap Louis on the shoulder but his eyes don’t leave Lottie. “No you twat, that!” He’s waving his finger around in little circular motions that are kind of making Louis feel dizzy. If he weren’t so fond of Harry and if everything he does wasn’t so god damn endearing, Louis would ask him to stop.

But now he thinks about it… Yes, Louis thinks, Lottie is tilting her chin down in a peculiar way. There’s an uncharacteristic blush to her cheeks and she’s averting her eyes.

Louis leans forward, resting his hand on Harry’s thigh so he can tilt his chair onto two legs without falling over, and oh. Oh. Now he sees it. It’s a tiny little bruise just under her chin, red and a little mottled, very distinctly a love bite if Louis knows anything about anything.

“Cheeky,” is all Louis says, winking at Lottie. He shrugs, balances his chair back on four legs and goes back to his food.

Harry’s staring at him though, looking disapproving. He kicks him gently under the table, “Aren’t you going to say anything?” He hisses, as if the whole table can’t hear him.

“Uh… no?” Louis says, a chuckle escaping his mouth. “She is sixteen, Haz. She’s allowed to kiss boys and have love bites. Plus, it’s only Josh, who I have known since he was running around in nappies. I know she’s not sleeping around and stuff.”

“Lou!” Lottie exclaims from the other side of the table. She looks mortified. “Can you stop speaking like I’m not even here?! And please God, stop discussing my sex life.” She leans her elbows on the table and hides her head in her hands.

Harry scowls at her. It’s like he’s gone from giggly Harry to protective Dad mode in about three seconds. “I don’t like this one bit. I didn’t know Josh was your boyfriend. And I don’t like marks all over your neck, what if he’s hurting you?”

Louis snorts, completely amused by this whole situation. “Hurting her? Pretty sure you weren’t complaining about me hurting you when I was sucking hickeys down your chest the other night.”

Fizzy makes a vomiting sound.

“Anyway,” Harry says, ignoring Louis’ comment altogether. “I want to meet this boy. As soon as possible, please. I want to know who my girls are hanging out with.”

“Protective much,” Lottie mumbles under his breath, sending Louis a glare as if to say will you please control him. But Louis ignores it, because it’s actually cute that Harry wants to meet Josh, wants to make sure Lottie’s happy and safe and in a relationship with a boy who’s good for her. Louis wants to kiss him.

“Oh yeah!” Harry says, the love bite momentarily forgotten it seems, as he turns to Louis, smile on his face. “Talking about being protective and meeting partners and all that jazz, my parents want to meet you.”

Louis’ stomach lurches. “What?”

“They want to meet you,” Harry shrugs. “Say they’re fed up of me never being around because I’m always with a boy they’ve never even met.”

“Oh, um…” Louis doesn’t know what to say. Well, he knows what he wants to say, which is ‘no’. No no no no no. He doesn’t want to meet Harry’s parents. He’s not even sure himself why Harry is with him, he’s poor in both wealth and job prospects, with a family of his own to feed and no bright expectations for the future. Louis’ pretty sure no parents will be happy with that.

But Harry looks so excited, is the thing. He’s beaming at Louis, like his family and his boyfriend coming together is the best thing that could happen. And really Louis’ just a sucker, doesn’t want to upset him when he looks like that.

So he just says, “Sure, yeah, okay,” and then changes the subject, hopes that Harry will forget all about it until sometime in the very late future.

❀❀❀

Harry doesn’t forget about it.

He’s just hanging up the phone when Louis gets in from work at quarter to six the next day, exhausted and not looking forward to a shift at the bar.

“Hey you,” Harry says, cupping Louis’ face as soon as he’s in reaching distance and kissing him lightly on the lips.

Louis sags against his side when they detach, using Harry as a support for his aching body. “Hey,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into Harry’s chest. “I’m sleepy, what’s for dinner?”

“Chicken and rice and stuff,” Harry says, combing his fringe through Louis’ hair. “Hope that’s okay. Also, just spoke to my stepdad on the phone, that was him just then.” Louis just makes a tired noise in the back of his throat in response. “He says he’s cleared his schedule for Wednesday evening, so me and you can go round for some food with him and my mum. Sounds fun, right?”

“Yeah, fun.”

Harry pouts at his sarcastic tone and Louis feels instantly guilty.

“Sorry,” he backtracks, nudging Harry’s cheek with his nose. “Just tired. Remind me later and I’ll check my schedule, kay?”

Harry nods, and Louis once again finds himself hoping Harry will forget about it.

❀❀❀

Alas, yet again Harry doesn’t forget about it. He checks Louis’ diary instead, beaming when he sees Wednesday is Louis’ night off from the bar.

Louis pretends to smile along with him, dread seeping through his veins.

❀❀❀

Wednesday comes around too quickly, and soon enough Louis finds himself climbing in Harry’s Range Rover.

“Have you got your overnight stuff?” Harry asks, leaning over to peck Louis on the cheek.

Louis nods, resting his bag on his lap and clutching it like a lifeline. He’s so nervous, doesn’t know what to expect. He tries consoling himself, tells himself that if these people have brought up Harry then they must be wonderful, because Harry is the most wonderful person. It helps a little bit, but it doesn’t stop him from staring at retreating house as they drive off.

“You okay?” Harry questions, catching on to the fact that Louis in uncharacteristically quiet. He places the hand that was on the gear stick on to Louis’ thigh, fingers tapping subconsciously as he drives.

“Yeah, just feeling a bit queasy,” Louis admits, grabbing Harry’s hand in his own.

“Sick queasy or nervous queasy?”

“Nervous queasy.” Louis tries to hide his face as Harry glances over. He feels embarrassed to admit it, ashamed that he prides himself on getting through so much in his life and yet he’s still anxious about meeting his boyfriend’s parents.

“You shouldn’t be nervous Lou,” Harry says softly. “It’ll be fine. It’s just dinner and then we can escape to my room, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, taking a deep breath in. He can do this. No big deal. They’re only people. Only Harry’s parents.

Louis forgets all about his nerves momentarily twenty minutes later though, as they’re pulling up a driveway that looks like it belongs outside Buckingham Palace.

“What the fuck, Harry,” Louis deadpans, staring at the building in front of him. It looks like a mansion, not a family home. Louis’ pretty sure he could fit his whole house into the garden shed.

“Uh, yeah, it’s quite a big house,” Harry says awkwardly, his tone embarrassed.

Louis breathes out loudly. “Fuck. With this car and all I could guess you’re quite well off but you never told me I was going out with a prince.”

Harry huffs out a laugh. “I’m not a prince, you tosser. My stepdad’s just successful at what he does, you know?”

When they’re out of the car and walking up the drive, Louis clings to Harry’s hand like it’s a lifejacket and he’s drowning in the ocean. Harry just squeezes his hand and tilts his chin up to kiss Louis on the lips, before using his key to open the massive oak door.

“Hiiiii,” Harry shouts out when they’re inside. Louis barely registers it though, takes a minute to stare at the inside of the house. The floor is marble and shiny, a staircase leading up the first floor covered with plush red carpet. Louis thinks the vase on the table where Harry throws his keys probably costs more than his whole existence. A cleaner walks by, gloves on her hands as she carries an ornament into the front room. Somewhere else, a hoover can be heard, but it’s obviously not Harry’s parents, because they’ve appeared on the landing, overlooking the entrance hall and smiling when they see the two boys. They descend the stairs like royalty, Robin’s hand resting on Anne’s back.

“Hi boys,” Harry’s mum, Anne, greets. “Shoes off, then come in the front room and we’ll talk properly.”

“Hi mum,” Harry smiles, kicking off his shoes into a haphazard mess on the floor. Louis follows his lead, kicking his worn down Vans under the table before he walks after Harry and his parents. The whole house has an air of superiority, every inch spotless and shining. Louis feels like he’s been dropped right into an episode of that show he once watched at Zayn’s, Downton Abbey. He doesn’t quite know how to act.

Harry flops down on a sofa, clearly feeling relaxed and at home. Louis sits down next to him timidly, bum resting on the edge of the cushion.

“So you must be Louis,” Anne says, sat on the sofa opposite. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Uh, yeah,” Louis says, clearing his voice since it’s come out a bit gruff. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Drink, Louis?” Robin calls from the other side of the room.

“Can I have a beer, Robin?,” Harry answers instead. “And Lou will have a tea.” He glances to Louis to make sure that’s what he wants, and Louis sends him a small smile in relief, nodding at Harry.

While Robin’s getting the drinks, Harry launches into a story about this painting he saw in a gallery in town, and Louis sits and listens whilst his mum asks all these intellectual questions about the depth of the art or something equally confusing. Louis can’t help but think about how he knows nothing about these kinds of things, about how he didn’t even know Harry liked art. He feels very out of his depth.

Robin joins them, handing Harry a glass bottle and Louis a cup and saucer. A cup and saucer. Not a mug, or even a paper cup that Louis' had at his home before. His hands are shaking a little bit, and the porcelain makes a rattling sound as the cup and saucer bang together. He shoots an apologetic look to Anne when she glances over and then clutches the cup even harder, trying to stop the shaking.

“So Louis, it’s nice we can finally put a face to the name,” Robin chuckles, sitting down next to Anne and looking at Louis expectantly. “How long have you two been friends now?”

“Boyfriends,” Harry corrects quietly, shaking his head slightly like he’s not even surprised.

“Erm, what has it been now, Haz?” Louis asks, biting his lip. “I think it’s been about eight months since we met, so maybe five months of actual dating?”

“Yeah that’s right,” Harry says immediately. Louis can’t help but smile; knowing Harry he’s probably been counting the days or something equally as sappy.

“Not too long then,” Anne says, nodding. Louis feels a bit put out, he feels like her saying that is a bit insulting, her tone insinuating their relationship isn’t serious. Louis doesn’t know if that’s actually what’s happening, or if he’s just being defensive.

“Feels like a long time,” Louis replies, trying to joke and brighten the atmosphere. “Can’t get rid of him.”

Harry laughs and elbows him in the side, before grabbing Louis’ hand and resting it in his own. Louis watches both parents follow the movement. Neither looks too happy.

“I wasn’t aware you were trying to get rid of him,” Anne answers, voice blank.

Louis swallows. Maybe this whole meeting the parents thing isn’t going to go so well after all. “Uh, no, of course I'm not. I was joking,” he says uncomfortably, knee starting to bounce in nerves.

It’s silent for a moment. Robin’s looking at Louis, gaze unwavering. Louis tries to keep eye contact for a minute, but he feels so intimidated he looks away. Harry and his mum seem to be having a conversation with their eyes, Harry looking a bit frustrated. Nobody speaks. Louis feels oh so awkward.

And then: “Dinner’s ready!” Some unknown person’s voice calls through into the room from what Louis expects is the kitchen, and all four of them jump a little, flinch from the sudden sound. Robin claps his hands once and then gets up, Anne forcing her gaze away from Harry to follow her husband.

The two boys hang back a second, getting up off the sofa but not leaving the room.

Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ back, pulling him close.

“Sorry about this,” he mumbles, mouth resting right near Louis’ ear. “Don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

Louis shrugs, thinking: I do. It’s obvious what’s gotten into them. They probably expected some confident, suit-wearing young man from a well-known, wealthy family to march into the room and introduce himself as Harry’s boyfriend. Instead all they got was Louis and his tired eyes, black skinny jeans and holey socks.

He doesn’t say anything to Harry though, doesn’t want to cause a rift. He just shrugs and buries his face in Harry’s neck, breathing in the scent that is so calming to him. They stand there, Harry swaying them a little, until Anne’s voice comes drifting through, asking where they’ve gotten to.

The dining room is immaculate, much like the rest of the house. The wooden rectangular table is too big for the three people who live in the house. Louis thinks idly that his family and Harry’s family should swap tables, and then maybe they’d each have suitable tables for the size of their families.

Robin sits at the head of the table, and Anne sits next him on the left side. Louis tries to push Harry forward as if to tell him to sit on the other side, but Harry just guides him towards Robin and Louis is left no choice but to sit down. He feels so caged in, Robin on one side and Anne sitting right opposite him. Harry is on his other side, but it doesn’t bring him much comfort.

Whilst Anne and Robin are debating with each other about what dressing they should ask the cook to put on the salad, Louis turns to Harry and nudges his foot to get his attention. He tilts his head to the side, indicating to the cutlery set out in front of him. There are three different sets of knives and forks, all different sizes and slightly different shapes. Confused is an understatement.

Harry stifles a giggle at Louis’ expression. “They’re for the different courses,” he says quietly, making sure his parents aren’t listening.

“The fuck?” Louis whispers, scrunching up his nose. “Why do I need more than one fork? It’s only my saliva that’s going to have been on them.”

“It’s just what they do,” Harry shrugs, smiling.

“Plus,” Louis says, “I’ve already exchanged your saliva many times, we may as well share a knife and fork. Less washing up to do for those poor cleaner folk.”

Harry starts laughing, and it’s only then that Louis realises he can’t hear Anne and Robin talking anymore. Sure enough, when he turns his head towards them, they’re looking right at him, obviously hearing what he just said.

Louis coughs, spluttering on air. “Sorry,” he mumbles awkwardly after Harry’s slapped him on the back. He kind of wants to find a hole to crawl in it and wait for death.

“So Louis,” Robin says, after shooting Harry a disapproving look. “What do you do as an occupation?”

“I work in an office,” Louis says, thanking the server quietly as she places a plate of some fancy chicken dish in front of him.

“Oh,” Robin looks rather impressed. “What kind of work? Law? Insurance?”

“Uh, actually just as a personal assistant,” Louis corrects, feeling a stab of shame. He also feels a stab of hatred towards Robin for making him feel ashamed of what he’s achieved.

“He also has a bartending job,” Harry supplies, sounding proud, obviously oblivious to the way his stepfather has turned his nose up at the sound of Louis’ job, looking at him as if he’s a disease. “He’s great at it too. I’ve been in a few times whilst he’s working. He can tell you what's in all of the drinks they serve; I know, I’ve tested him and everything.”

“That’s nice, Harry.” Robin says in such a dismissing tone. Louis feels even more angry, because he obviously didn’t listen to a thing Harry just said, and that’s just plain rude. “But what are your plans for the future, Louis? University, I assume?”

For a second, Louis thinks about lying. About making this easy for himself, saying yeah sure of course university, yeah. But he doesn’t want to be ashamed of himself, knows he’s done the best that he could in the situations he’s been granted, and he’s pretty damn happy with what he’s achieved. He’s gotten two jobs, he’s gotten the girls food and clothes and a roof over their head. He’d rather pay for Lottie to go to university rather than himself.

So instead of lying, Louis just shrugs and says: “No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” Robin sounds surprised. “And why not? Surely university is the only way you will ever progress from simple jobs like what you are currently working at.”

“I can’t afford it.” Louis pinches the skin on his wrist under the table to stop himself from snapping. “And I don’t have the qualifications, anyway.”

“You don’t have A-Levels?” Anne sounds a bit horrified.

“No I didn’t go to sixth form.”

“What about your GCSE grades? You could always move on to A-Levels now and then go to university.”

“I don’t have GCSEs either.”

“What?!” Robin scowls at him. “I do apologise but the only people who don’t have GCSEs are hooligans and skivers. Boys like that don’t achieve anything in life, you should do well to remember that. You mentioned sisters too, right? Bet they’re just as bad. Disgraceful. Just disgraceful.”

“Robin!” Harry sounds so embarrassed, Louis feels bad for him. “He’s my boyfriend, please!”

“Boyfriend?” Robin laughs bitterly. “Harry, you may as well get rid of him right now. He’s a good for nothing, obviously. Excuse me, Louis, but you don’t have anything going for you! Don’t waste your time on someone like that, son.”

Maybe it’s because that’s Louis’ worse nightmare, for someone to say that about him. Maybe it’s because Robin mentioned his sisters. Maybe it’s because Robin’s saying all this to Harry, trying to take away the one thing that Louis really needs in life. Maybe it’s just because Robin’s a dick. But Louis is suddenly very, very angry.

He laughs; a short, loud laugh. All eyes at the table turn to look at him.

“You’re insufferable.” Louis laughs, fury burning through his veins. “How dare you judge me when you don’t know anything about me?”

“We can probably guess,” Anne says, hand resting on top of Robin’s, placing her fork gently onto her plate. Louis reiterates, dropping his fork with a bang onto the fancy plate. He hopes it has cracked.

“Go on then,” Louis shrugs. “Guess.” He takes a quick glance to his right, and immediately feels awful. Harry looks pale as a ghost, eyes wide, a bit like he’s about to vomit. But it’s too late to backtrack now, Louis’ gone too far.

“You were a problem child in school.” Robin deadpans. “Spoke back to all the teachers. Probably violent with your schoolmates. Got kicked out of every school there was which is was you have no GCSEs. Ended up in a pathetic job, but at least it’s enough to buy you money for drugs and cigarettes.”

Louis snorts. If only his life had been that easy. “Wrong on all accounts, Robin.”

“Oh yeah?” Robin taunts. “Try me.”

“Robin please don’t - ” Harry begs but he’s interrupted by his stepdad.

“I said, try me.”

Louis’ speaking before he’s even remembered he doesn’t want these horrible people to know his life story, doesn’t even want Harry to know all of it.

“I never knew my father. My mum was a terrible parent, never around, left me home alone for four days when I was five years old. Never any food in the house, never any money for heating or hot water. I have four younger sisters, all of which I have raised myself. I worked hard at school, wanted to do well so I could earn enough money for my family. But my mother gave up on us when I was fifteen, upped and left one day before I got home from school. So I stuck at high school for a while, but with no income in the house I had to leave to get a job to support my family. I was fifteen, and I was looking after two babies and two young girls. So yeah, maybe I didn’t get GCSEs. But no GCSEs is better than a dead family, I like to think.”

He’s breathless when he’s stopped speaking, and suddenly he notices his hands are shaking, and everyone’s looking at him, and even Harry looks horrified. And he can’t be here anymore, wants to be anywhere but here and he needs to get out. Now.

So he pushes his chair back, the wood making a high-pitched shrieking sound as it rubs against the shiny floor.

“If you’ll excuse me.” He sends a fake smile at Robin and Anne before looking at Harry. “I’m so sorry,” he says to the younger boy. Harry looks up at him, mouth moving like he’s trying to form words but can’t find his voice. “But I can’t be around this.” And then he walks out.

❀❀❀

He’s only reached the end of the driveway before he’s crying. He feels like Harry’s parents spent the entire evening making him feel like shit and he hates it, he hates feeling so worthless.

He’s also crying because he’s not sure if that means he and Harry have broken up. He won’t be surprised if Harry doesn’t call him tomorrow, doesn’t contact him at all again. That was a pretty big bust up right there, and yet Louis can’t find it in himself to regret it. Sure, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive without Harry, but he couldn’t not defend himself. He couldn’t.

He reaches the end of what feels like a mile long drive, and pulls his jumper sleeves down over his hands, half so he can wipe his eyes with them, and half because it’s bloody freezing. It’s dark and foggy, and there’s ice forming on the road. He doesn’t even have any clue where he is, and it’s not like he has money for a taxi. It’s almost ten too, so the buse services have probably stopped for the night. He stops dead in his tracks for a minute, breath forming grey clouds in the cold air in front of him.

He figures there’s nothing he can do except follow the road one way and hope it’s the way into town, through which he’ll know his way home. So he wipes away his tears and tells himself he can cry when he gets home, and then he nods his head and starts walking forwards.

He’s been walking for about thirty seconds before headlights come up behind him and then there’s a car stopping right next to the side of the road.

“Lou!” Harry’s voice sounds panicky and too loud in the silence of the night. “Louis!”

Louis turns around and sees Harry jumping out of the car. The younger boy runs towards him, face worried and eyes wide.

“Louis, I’m so sorry,” Harry says breathlessly as he stops a metre away. “I’m so so sorry, please you have to believe me. I didn’t know they were going to act like that. I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Louis says, trying to force out a tiny smile. “It’s fine, Harry. Don’t feel obligated to come after me, I understand.”

“Understand what?” Harry frowns. He looks like a little baby deer, Louis thinks, all long limbs and big eyes and looking afraid in the shine of the car headlights.

“Understand that they’re you’re parents. That you’re going to take their side.” Louis feels the back of his eyes burn, can feel the tears forming but he forces them back and speaks around the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry if I’ve got you in shit with them. And I understand if you don’t…” he takes a breath, “if you don’t want to see me again.” A tear does fall then, he can’t help it, but he wipes it away furiously with the back of his hand.

“If I don’t...” Harry croaks out. “If I don’t want to see you again? What? Why are you crying?”

“Because I like you Harry!” Louis shouts, all pretences forgotten. And suddenly he doesn't care if he was meant to keep it a secret. “Wait, fuck that, I don’t just like you Harry, I love you! I’m in love with you! And you’re about to break up with me!”

Harry stares at him and Louis stares back. Louis can’t believe he’s just said that.

“I’m not going to break up with you,” Harry says finally, voice slow, like he’s still trying to understand what’s going on. “I drove here because I was worried about you, and because I didn’t want to stay in that house with them, and because I wanted to come home with you. Because... I love you too.”

Louis blinks. “Oh.”

“I love you too,” Harry repeats, and then he’s gathering Louis up in his arms and the smell of Harry overwhelms Louis and he’s crying again, sobbing desperately into Harry’s neck because he’s here and he’s warm and he’s not leaving and he loves him. Harry loves him.

And for now, that’s enough.


	9. birthdays.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So basically this chapters just Louis and Harry being cute and celebrating each other's birthdays wahey
> 
> (for some reason my chapter just won't let me have words in italics so I'll try to sort that out asap, my apologies)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So all I'm gunna say is you better enjoy this chapter because there's only a couple left and the next one is ... well I'm gunna say dramatic, at the very least. muhahaha. (please don't kill me)

ix. – birthdays.

The morning after the disaster that was meeting Harry’s parents, Louis wakes up early. It’s only about six in the morning, and it’s still dark outside. He burrows further under the duvet after realising how cold it is in the room and pushes his cold feet up against Harry’s calves. The younger boy stirs but doesn’t wake, grumbling something incoherent and then tightening his grip around Louis’ waist. The older boy struggles for a moment but manages to turn around in Harry’s grasp. He stares at Harry’s face, the cute little sleepy pout that Louis just wants to kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers, trying it out on his tongue. It feels like the first time, because even though he knows he said it last night, it feels different now. Last night he was shouting and it was in the heat of the moment and he said it without thinking. Now it feels more intimate, more real in the silence of the morning. It feels right though, so he says it again, and then again, and then he says it louder and louder and eventually Harry wakes up to Louis shouting, “LOVE YOU!” in his ear.

“Lou,” Harry grumbles sleepily. His morning voice is to die for, Louis thinks. “I’m tired will you please be a bit quieter.”

“Sorry babes,” Louis smiles, tucking closer to Harry in the bed.

When he doesn’t say anything else, Harry forces his eyes open. “I said be quieter, not stop.”

“Oh.” Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s chin. “WelI then, I love you.”

The beam on Harry’s face is bright enough to rival the sun. “I love you too.”

“Good,” is all Louis says, shifting on top of Harry so he can kiss him properly. He slots their mouths together, and neither seems to care about morning breath or morning hard-ons. They just kiss slowly and sleepily while Louis tries to get his head around the fact that Harry loves him. Harry. He doesn’t know how he’s gotten so lucky.

“Lou?” Harry says half an hour later, when they’ve gotten each other off under the duvet. They’re still snuggled up together, although Louis knows he’s going to have to get up for work soon.

“Yes?” Louis says, distracted and thinking about how he might have left his bag with his work uniform in at Harry’s parents’ house.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your mum?” Harry sounds so hesitant and scared to ask the question. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Louis says, shifting his head on the pillow so he can see Harry’s face. “You don’t need to be afraid to ask me anything, Haz, kay?”

“’Kay,” Harry smiles, reaching around so he can find Louis’ hand to slot their fingers together. “So, your mum?”

Louis shrugs a bit, not really knowing where to start. “Well I guess I didn’t tell you at first for the same reason I didn’t immediately tell you I'm broke and looking after four sisters. I didn’t want you to run away, or think I was pathetic or something.”

“I wouldn’t think it was pathetic,” Harry says softly. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

Louis just brushes it off. “Well, I was just a bit embarrassed. Or wanted to feel like I was normal, I think. Wanted you to think I was normal.” Harry stays quiet, like he’s waiting for Louis to continue so he does. “And then we were boyfriends and I kind of felt like I’d missed the chance to explain properly, like if I brought it up you’d think I’d been lying to you or something. And I just didn’t want you to think I like to keep things from you, because I don’t. And I always knew you’d find out eventually, but… I dunno. I just didn’t know how I was meant to say it, like I wasn’t just going to sit you down one day and be like ‘oh yeah by the way Haz, my mum never loved me or my sisters and she just fucked off seven years ago and that’s what you never see her and that’s why I can’t buy the girls nice things or live in a warm house because I’m the sole earner of income’. It’s not something I love to talk about, you know? How easily she left? It was just one day she was gone, like we were nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispers, and he sounds so sad and Louis can’t stand it.

“Not your fault babes,” he says, pecking Harry on the lips. “Not your fault at all.”

“Not your fault either,” Harry says, resting his forehead against Louis’. Louis just shrugs, doesn’t really want to go into it. He’s spent years wondering if he was the reason she left, if he is to blame for the girls not having a mother around. But the truth of the matter is that they don’t know what happened, will probably never know, so he tries not to dwell on it too much anymore.

“Anyway,” Louis says, a question popping into his mind. “How did you never realise she’s not around?! I mean you’re here every day almost, have been for months.”

Harry laughs. “Now that is your fault.”

“Huh?” 

“I think I just…” Harry doesn’t seem to know how to word what he wants to say. “You’re like, a magnet, Lou. Yeah, that’s it, you’re magnetic. I can never seem to concentrate on anything when you’re around. I guess I was always just too focused on you to really realise. I mean, it has crossed my mind before. Like, a couple of times I’ve wondered where she was meant to sleep or what time she left if I got here early in a morning, but I’ve never spent time properly thinking about it. It’s your fault for being too god damn interesting.”

“Interesting?” Louis snorts. “My life is the least interesting thing in the entire world, Harry. Maybe you need to get your head sorted out.”

“I think you’re interesting,” Harrys says confidently. “Interesting and lovely and very gorgeous.”

Louis rolls his eyes in an attempt to hide the fact he’s blushing.

“And I love you,” Harry says.

Louis grins. He’s not quite sure how the horror that was last night has turned into this wonderful morning, but he’s happy as hell that is has. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he tells Harry, before he’s forcing himself out of bed, ready to face a day of work.

❀❀❀

And just like that, months come and go.

Harry is a constant in Louis’ life when nothing else is. He loses his job at the bar a couple of weeks before Christmas, but luckily he’s saved up enough money that he’s already paid next months’ rent. Thanks to having had two jobs for a significant amount of time, he manages to buy the girls more for Christmas than he ever has before: nail varnish and bath bombs and a couple of CDs. The twins are beaming on Christmas morning and even Lottie is more upbeat than usual, even though the house is freezing and they have to wrap up in hoodies and blankets. Eventually, they all just take their duvets downstairs and have a little camp out in the living room, five bodies piled onto one sofa and watching Home Alone on Lottie’s laptop. It’s perfect, Louis thinks, as he’s cramped in between Fizzy and Daisy, someone’s elbow digging into his side and Phoebe’s foot slung over his lap. Best Christmas yet.

Louis doesn’t tell Harry that it was his birthday on Christmas Eve. When Harry finds out he’s missed it (Louis suspects Phoebe spilled the beans) he’s properly annoyed, and comes over the next day with chocolates and balloons and banners and a soft woolly jumper wrapped up in proper wrapping paper and everything. Normally Louis would tell him it’s too much and that he can’t accept it, would feel shy and awful that Harry’s spent all this money on him. But he just can’t. He’s smiling too big, laughing too loud as Harry cuts the belated birthday cake. He’s having such a good time, and he’s so thankful to have Harry in his life.

❀❀❀

The weeks leading up to Harry’s birthday, Louis tries to come up with something, anything, that he can get him that will live up to, or at least be equivalent to, an actual present. He thinks for hours, for days, but comes up blank. The last day of January he admits defeat and rings Zayn to ask him to take the girls for tomorrow night. Louis can practically hear Zayn’s smirk through the phone.

After he’s shipped the girls to Zayn’s and cleaned the house, he lights the few candles he finds in the cupboard under the sink and dresses in his best jeans (the ones that hug his bum) and a denim shirt. He’s splashed out in the supermarket and he flails around in the kitchen, attempting to make chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in Parma ham, with a side of homemade mash. It doesn’t turn out too badly, he thinks, considering he really hasn’t ever cooked anything this fancy.

He’s told Harry to come at about seven, and he’s not surprised when the younger boy stumbles into the house without even knocking. It’s routine now, if he’s honest.

“Hi,” Harry grins when he bounds into the kitchen, smiling like seeing Louis is the best thing that could happen.

“Hi yourself,” Louis says, walking over to Harry to kiss him, leaning up on his tiptoes to press one, two, then three kisses to his lips. “Harry birthday.”

Harry’s still beaming. “Thanks Lou. “

Louis forces Harry into a chair and then places a plate in front of him before sliding into the chair opposite. They start to chat about their days, Harry launching into a tale about the whole lecture theatre singing him happy birthday, and about how his parents almost didn’t let him come tonight. Louis hasn’t seen them since that awful meeting before Christmas, and he and Harry have decided they’ll steer clear for a while. Harry says he’s tried to make them come round, shouted at them for days about how rude they were to Louis. Louis understands though, understands that they want better for Harry than a boy with no career and nothing to offer but himself. Harry doesn’t like to talk about it much though, drops the subject quite quickly because he loves Louis and he loves his parents and he doesn’t want to be forced to choose between them. Louis’ glad for that.

Once both plates are clean, Louis dumps the dirty dishes on the side and then places one small wrapped present in front of Harry.

“A present?” Harry grins, “Lou, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s nothing Haz, honestly,” Louis says, sliding into the chair opposite. “This isn’t the real present, either.”

Harry rips into the present when Louis gives him a nod. Louis wasn’t lying when he said it was nothing; all it is is a packet of love hearts, those candy sweets meant for kids with little quotes on that Louis used to love when he was small and went over to Niall’s house.

Harry smiles like it’s the best present he’s ever received though, and Louis is once again astounded how he managed to bag such a lovely boy. He pouts when Louis snatches the packet away from him though, but remains quiet when Louis opens the packaging and starts to rearrange the sweets.

He sorts through them, leaving ones to the side that he’ll leave for the girls because they’re not relevant, and then slowly places a few in front of Harry.

My boy, the first says. Harry has a soft smile on his face as he glances up at Louis, fondness lighting up his eyes.

All mine, says the second. Louis shoots a look up at Harry, silent, but questioning. Harry gives him a nod as if to say: yes, yes of course I’m all yours. 

The next one Louis takes a while to place on the table, rolling it between his fingers, as if he isn’t quite confident enough to show it to Harry. So the younger boy reaches over and grabs it, and it says, Forever, and Louis shouldn’t have worried because Harry just grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers easily, like a key and a lock that fit together so well.

Then it becomes a little less serious, Louis handing Harry a sweet that says Hot Lips. Harry barks out a laugh at that one, and Louis breathes a little easier, because it had been so silent, the only sound having been the two boys’ breathing, and he feels like it’s become a little less intense.

The last one he has says, Let’s Dance, and Harry looks a bit surprised, looking at Louis with a question in his eyes. Louis just gets up and goes over to Lottie’s laptop that’s on the side counter, and he picks a random Ed Sheeran song because he knows how much Harry loves him, and Thinking Out Loud starts playing, and normally Louis would scoff and roll his eyes and make vomiting sounds at how cheesy this all is, but something about the way Harry’s looking at him, all gentle eyes and rosy cheeks, makes him shut up, makes him go over to Harry and throw his arms around his neck, starting to slowly sway them to the beat.

And for four minutes, it’s like the whole world has stopped. Like Louis’ money problems don’t exist, and like Harry’s parents don’t hate him with their whole beings. Louis feels light, like he doesn’t know what tears are, what pain feels like. All he can see is Harry’s green eyes, green green green everywhere, surrounding him. And all he can feel is Harry’s hands on his waist, firm but gentle, safe, and Harry’s curls are tickling his ear, and he kind of wants to cry and he doesn’t really know why. Maybe because it feels so perfect, and nothing in his life has ever been perfect. He loves Harry so much, loves his ridiculous shirt collection and his dorky tattoos and the soft hair on the nape of his neck. He doesn’t want to lose him ever, and he just hopes that Harry feels a least a fraction of how Louis’ feeling.

They break away after that song, soft giggles breaking the silence, a faint blush on Louis’ cheek.

“Happy birthday,” he tells Harry again, and Harry leans down and kisses him, urgency in the way his lips are moving.

“I love you,” Harry says, his lips still pressed against Louis’. “Thank you for all of this.”

“The best is yet to come,” Louis says, and if the mad smirk on his face breaks the tender moment a little, well that’s okay.

❀❀❀

The two boys cuddle on the sofa, and watch 10 Things I Hate About You on Lottie’s laptop because it’s the only movie she seems to have downloaded recently. And even though Louis doesn’t enjoy the film much, he enjoys watching Harry enough that it doesn’t matter. His boy laughs at every single bad joke, gasps at all the things he doesn’t see coming, pouts and burrows closer to Louis when Kat finds out Patrick was paid to be with her.

By the end of the film though, Louis’ pretty much just ready to give Harry his actual birthday present. So he closes the laptop shut when the credits run and swings his leg over Harry’s lap.

“Hi,” Harry grins.

“Hi,” Louis says, although it’s a little muffled because he’s already kissing up Harry’s neck.

Harry pulls away from Louis a little, pushing Louis’ shoulder back. “Lou, don’t. The girls will be back soon and then we won’t be able to finish what we’ve started.”

“Nuh uh,” Louis smirks, shaking his head. “The girls will not be back tonight, dear Hazza. We have the whole night… the whole house, to ourselves.”

Harry’s face lights up like a toddler at Christmas.

❀❀❀

Even though they’ve got the whole house at their disposal, obviously the girls’ bedrooms are off limit. It breaks Louis’ mood even thinking about it.

Instead, Louis slips his hand down Harry’s trousers and gives him half a hand job to start; enough to make Harry throw his head back and enough to make his thighs shake, but not enough to get him off completely.

They kiss on the way into the kitchen, Louis bumping into walls as he walks backwards and tries to slip his tongue into Harry’s mouth at the same time. He pushes Harry against the kitchen counter and immediately drops to his knees, and the sounds Harry makes as soon as Louis takes him into his mouth are like music, like the prettiest melody that Louis wants to record and listen to again and again and again.

Louis gets a bit carried away, feels like he’s enjoying himself almost as much as Harry is, so he doesn’t quite remember that he wasn’t going to let Harry come yet until his mouth is full and he’s coughing at the unexpected liquid shooting down his throat. He pulls off and laughs, and can’t quite get himself to regret it when he glances up and sees that Harry looks absolutely ruined, curls sticking to his forehead with sweat and eyes still screwed shut.

He gets off the ground and slides his hands round Harry’s waist, waiting for the younger boy to respond. Eventually he does, Harry blinking his eyes open slowly like he can’t quite believe he’s still alive.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and then he’s laughing. He rests his forehead against Louis’. “That was amazing. Holy mother of God, I think I saw Jesus for a few seconds.”

Louis giggles, and pinches the skin on Harry’s hip. “The night is still young, dear Harold.”

Harry looks like he’s about to pass out.

❀❀❀

They finally make it up to Louis’ bedroom and clothes are flying around like there’s no tomorrow. It kind of feels like it, to be honest. They never have full nights away from the girls, or nights where Louis isn’t so exhausted from work that he can actually be bothered to do anything more than a quickie. So this is a precious night in itself, and Louis plans on making full use of it.

After prolonged teasing and scissoring Harry open until he’s gasping and begging and almost crying, Louis finally pushes inside, and for a few seconds he just pauses and takes in the warmth and the overwhelming feeling washing over him. But then he can feel Harry’s nails digging into his back and he’s snapped back to reality, and he pulls back a few inches and then slides back in, and Harry makes a choking noise into his mouth.

It starts off relatively loving, Louis breathing into Harry’s mouth about how much he loves him, how he wants nothing more in the world but Harry and this this this. Harry replies back as much as he seems to be able to, talking around gasps and spluttering that Louis is everything, and Louis is pretty, and Louis is the only one.

But then something seems to switch when Louis pulls Harry’s knee onto his shoulder to change the angle, Harry’s mouth dropping open in what can only be described as a look of pure pleasure. Louis starts thrusting more forcefully then, picking up the pace and leaning further onto his left hand so he can start pulling on Harry’s dick with the other hand. Harry slaps his hand away after a minute though, and then the whole world is spinning and Louis realises as his back hits the mattress that Harry has flipped them over.

He breathes out a “fuck,” as Harry slides down onto him, bottoming out only briefly before he’s pushing himself back up and riding Louis. He leans down to attach their mouths, but it feels so good that Louis can barely function, let alone remember to kiss properly.

Harry sits back up and then he’s full on bouncing and his curls are flying around his head like a halo and Louis is the one who’s gasping now, feels like he can’t get enough air into his lungs. He reattaches his hand and strokes Harry quickly, feeling his orgasm bubbling up in his stomach. Harry must be hitting his prostate on every bounce because he’s cursing like he does only when Louis’ got the angle just right, and after another twenty seconds he’s spilling into Louis’ hand and coming for the second time tonight, his whole body practically shaking with it. Louis follows not long after, lifting his hips up once, twice, thrice before he’s gone too, the whole world going black but white at the same time, and Louis isn’t quite sure how that’s possible but it feels so good he doesn’t quite care that he seems to have momentarily gone blind.

“Best… birthday… ever,” Harry mumbles from where his cheek is smushed against Louis’ chest, still laying where he collapsed.

Louis chuckles at how wrecked Harry’s voice sounds, and then they’re both laughing, and then they’re kissing but they’re still laughing so it’s more kind of giggling into each other’s mouths, eyes crinkled shut with mirth.

They fall asleep with smiles still on their faces. If Louis’ planning on waking Harry up in a couple of hours for round two… well he definitely won’t mind.

 

And for now, that’s enough.


	10. the downfall.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the basically the big chapter where all the shit happens and nothing is happy and im sorry because you're probably going to kill me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 CHAPTERS LEFT! (sad face)
> 
> Oh, and i also want to say that this chapter was written before zayn left the band, before he even took a break, and its just a really depressing coincidence what happens in this chapter. 
> 
> I also cried whilst writing it so... enjoy

x. – the downfall. 

Louis should have known nothing good lasts forever. At least not in his life.

It starts with he and Harry having a massive fight about his parents one night. It stems from nothing, and Louis knows he’s overreacting, but he’s so fed up of Harry reminding him of how much his parents hate him, how much they disapprove. He gets it, and he doesn’t want to talk about it, and Harry just seems to bring it up all the time. They end up screaming at each other, and then they cry because they’ve never screamed at each other before, and then they make up and they have really good sex and they fall asleep curled together whispering that they love each other, and they’re both sorry.

But then they fight again the next day, something about Harry forgetting to collect Phoebe’s book bag up when he collected the twins from school. Louis’ over tired and he apologises for snapping at Harry, but Harry’s tired too from a stressful day at uni and he storms out, doesn’t even wait for Louis to apologise. He calls later though, and Louis tells him how sorry he is, and how much he didn’t mean it, and Harry comes over and once again they fall asleep together under the thin duvet, legs tangled together and Louis’ head on Harry’s chest.

But then they argue about bills one day. And then they fight about Lottie’s increasingly difficult behaviour. One day Louis tells Harry to fuck off and he doesn’t come round the house for three days.

Suddenly this is routine. Harry’s still over a lot, but there’s no hand holding under the table or kissing as they wash up. Louis wonders if this is what it’s like to be trapped in a long term marriage, no communication, no affection, just cleaning up after the kids and then falling asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

In a matter of weeks they’ve gone from the honey moon stage of a relationship to practically not talking. Louis knows it’s probably because the bills aren’t paid and he’s being underpaid again, and he’s exhausted so much that he doesn’t have any time or effort to pay Harry the attention that he needs or wants or deserves.

Louis tries making things better, thinks if they get some time to themselves maybe they can fix things. He sends the girls over to Cara’s for the evening, invites Harry round and cooks some nice food. But then Harry calls just as the food’s done, says something lame about wanting to spend some time working on this photography piece. Louis knows it’s an excuse, knows Harry well enough to know when he’s lying, but he doesn’t want to argue so he lies too, pretends he doesn’t know that it’s all bullshit and tells Harry that it’s fine, no big deal, and to have a good night. When he hangs up he smashes a glass on the ground in anger and throws the food in the bin. And then he slides down onto the floor and has a little cry because he’s losing Harry and it all feels too real suddenly. And then he realises he’s just thrown away the last good food they had in the house and has nothing to feed the girls with all because of his stupid anger, so he cries a little more.

❀❀❀

Somehow, it gets worse. Louis didn’t know it was possible that it could get worse, but as Zayn tells him he’s leaving, moving across the country, he feels his world collapse like he didn’t know it could.

“You’re what?” He chokes out, and tears are already springing to his eyes even though Zayn’s only spoken two words.

“Lou,” Zayn says, and it looks like he’s about to cry too. They’re sitting at Zayn’s kitchen table, the olive skinned boy having rang Louis up and told him they have to talk. Seriously. Just the two of them.

Louis just stares at Zayn like what he just said wasn’t English. He shakes his head once, then again, and then he’s just shaking his head back and forth like a madman, like if he shakes fast enough the words he just heard might just fly back out of his brain, like they never happened.

“Louis, listen to me,” Zayn pleads, grabbing Louis’ wrist and if he could speak, Louis would tell him that his grip is so tight it’s painful, probably going to bruise. He doesn’t though, couldn’t care less about a bruise at a time like this. “Perrie got into that uni, Lou,” Zayn says, and the darker haired boy is crying Louis realises as he manages to look up at his best friend’s face. “I love you so much Louis, and I love the girls more than anything in the world. But Perrie… I love her too. And I don’t want to leave her.” Zayn takes a deep breath. “I want to ask her to marry me. And I sent my portfolio in, Lou, and I think I could get into uni there too. And I can’t pass this up. I can’t be a stripper all my life, you know?”

Louis doesn’t notice he’s sobbing until he realises that strangled sound came from him. “You’re… you’re leaving?” He cries, trying to find his voice. “You’re going? You’re going.. away?”

“Yes,” Zayn says, as firmly as is possible when you’re pretty much bawling, and his chair clatters to the floor as he throws himself around the table to fling himself into Louis’ lap.

Louis can’t seem to say anything for a while. Zayn is sobbing into his ear, and his best friend’s tears are rolling down his neck and all Louis can think is that Zayn is the only person he has left. Zayn is the only person who has been there through it all. Zayn was there through primary school with Louis, through the good times when his only problems were not getting the new Pokémon cards he wanted for Christmas. And then Zayn was there when Louis admitted he was gay, and got beaten up by those neighbourhood boys. And then Zayn was there when his mum left, and when Louis’ whole life fell apart. Zayn was the one who helped put it back together. Zayn is like a father to Louis’ girls, and Louis knows it’s not only himself who is going to be fucking devastated by this news.

But then. As much as he doesn’t want Zayn to leave, as much as he wants to get down on his knees and beg him to stay… he knows he can’t. Because the fact is, Zayn has been there for Louis through it all. He has grown up faster so he could help Louis with the babies, has provided money out of his paychecks every single month since they were fifteen. And Zayn is such a great person, such a great friend, and he deserves so much more than this life. And Louis knows it. and he can’t be selfish about something like this.

So that’s why he pulls back from Zayn’s shaking form, and wipes the snot and tears from his face on the back of his sleeve with trembling hands.

“Oi, Zaynie,” he says, his voice croaky and raw. Zayn lifts his head from where it’s been tucked into Louis’ neck. “Get up, we’re a mess.” Louis tries to laugh, but it comes out a bit wet and strangled sounding. Oh well, at least he gave it a go, he thinks.

Louis pushes Zayn off his lap and stands up, too. He plants his hands on Zayn’s shoulders and eventually Zayn looks him in the eye. They’ve both got puffy red eyes and blotchy faces, both obviously gutted about Zayn’s upcoming departure. But Louis knows if he does plead Zayn to stay, he probably will. And that would be the wrong thing to do.

“Remember that time you punched Max Shortman in year six after he took my lunch and threw it in the mud?” Louis says, shaking Zayn gently by the shoulders until he lets out a weak laugh. “I knew then that you were always going to be my best friend. And you still will be, Zaynie, even though you’re ditching me for your perfect girlfriend and a degree that I know you're going to do brilliantly at.”

Zayn’s shoulders are still slumped and he still has tears running down his cheeks but he manages a feeble smile. “And here I was thinking that you were going to beg me to stay. Guess you don’t love me that much after all.”

“I do,” Louis says, and he’s crying again. “But this will be good for you, and you shouldn’t stay just because I’ve fucked my life up a bit.”

“You haven’t fucked up your life,” Zayn says, lifting one of his hands to brush some of the consistent tears away. “You’ve done so brilliantly Lou, and I hope you could only see what I do. The girls are so great because of you, and I’m going to miss them so fucking much. I’m going to miss you so fucking much.”

“I'm going to miss you too,” Louis whispers, but he’s not sure if Zayn hears because he’s pulled Louis into a hug so tight that Louis thinks he might be about to break his ribs. He doesn’t pull away though, doesn’t want to let his best friend go now he knows this might be the last time.

❀❀❀

Louis’ been through a lot of shit in his life, but despite all that, as he stands on the doorstep of his house waving Zayn off, he thinks this is definitely the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

He keeps it together though, if only for his girls, who are clinging onto him by every limb, and sobbing their little hearts out as Zayn and Perrie’s car grows smaller and smaller in the distance before it disappears altogether.

He manages to get them all back in the house and wipes away all the tears. He hugs each of them, and even Lottie lets him get close enough for a cuddle. He eventually packs them all off to school, and when the house is empty and the silence feels like it weighs a thousand tonnes he picks up the phone and calls Harry.

“Haz,” he cries into the receiver when it goes to voicemail. “I’m so sorry to bother you but Zayn’s gone. He’s gone and I don’t know what to do without him. He’s my best friend, Haz, and he’s gone.” He takes a deep breath, and swallows his pride, and just breathes down the phone, “Can you... can you maybe just come round? When you’re done with uni, I mean. Don’t ditch for me. I mean, I know we haven’t been great recently but I think we can work it out, I know we can work it out. I’ll be a better boyfriend, I swear I will. I love you, okay? Just… call me when you’re free. Okay, I’m going to go before I embarrass myself even more. Oh, it’s Lou by the way. Okay, bye.”

And then he waits.

He waits for a while still sat crying on the kitchen floor and then when Harry doesn’t call he gets up and forces himself to breathe. He gets himself together and does some washing up, some laundry, cleans the house, the usual stuff for his days off. And he forces himself not to think about the fact that Harry’s not here and Zayn is gone. Forces himself not to think about the fact that he’s alone in the world once again.

❀❀❀

Harry stumbles into the house at three o’ clock that morning, trips over a chair in the kitchen and swears so loudly it wakes the twins up. Louis tells them to go back to sleep and then turns the landing light on and rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes as he pads down the stairs.

He’s met with a very intoxicated Harry, who’s being sick in the kitchen sink. Delightful.

“Hey,” Louis says, too exhausted to go and hold Harry’s hair back so he just drops into a kitchen chair and rests his head in his hands until the retching stops. “Are you okay?” He asks when Harry turns around to face him.

“Just wonderful,” Harry grumbles sarcastically, downing a glass of water.

“Okay, sorry for asking.”

“What crawled into your pants and died?” Harry rolls his eyes, and then almost falls over, his already poor balance ruined by the alcohol.

Louis shakes his head. “Nothing.” He gets up and walks to the kitchen door, “Are you ready to come to bed?”

Harry shrugs, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Louis just gives him a look, “Please don’t fight with me tonight Harry.”

“Awww,” Harry says, walking up to Louis and pulling his face up roughly by his chin. Louis flinches, even though he knows it's the alcohol, and that Harry would never physically hurt him on purpose. “Is poor little Lou in a bad mood? Is poor little Lou mad at me yet again? What have I done this time, then? Is it the bills? Is it that I’m not helping out enough? It’s not like I’m devoting my whole fucking life to helping you and your family out or anything.” He sounds so bitter and mean and Louis can’t take it. This isn’t the Harry he fell in love with.

“You weren’t here,” Louis chokes out, feeling the back of his eyes prickling. “Zayn left and I needed you and you weren’t here.”

Harry drops Louis’ chin from in between his fingers, and he looks like he’s been slapped. His green eyes look soft again, like the eyes Louis knows. “Lou, I’m - ”

“Save it,” Louis says, his voice trembling. He can't take fighting tonight. His whole world has collapsed and he just wants to sleep to forget. “You’re drunk, Harry. Will you please sleep on the sofa tonight?”

Harry just nods, looking like he’s astounded by what he’s just said to Louis, like he can’t quite believe it himself.

But Louis’ too tired for forgiveness just yet, too sad to let Harry back in his bed. So he doesn’t wait for any more of an answer, just turns around and walks straight back up the stairs and into his bedroom, not even stopping by the twins’ room to check they’ve fallen asleep again. He marches straight into his room and climbs back into bed, and then buries his head in his pillow and sobs.

❀❀❀

It gets a bit better after that. Harry apologises so much in the morning Louis kisses him just to shut him up, and once they’ve started kissing it’s like they just can’t stop, having missed each other so much. They tell each other they love each other, and then they have a sit down and have a big chat. Louis tells Harry he knows he’s been a terrible boyfriend, that he’s just been so worried about bills and hot water and Lottie and life. Harry admits that he’s been taking out his anger on Louis because his parents told him that he had to choose between them and Louis and Harry refused. He admits that it has been getting to him a lot more than he let on, but that it actually really upsets him that his parents won’t accept the boy who he loves. They both cry, and then they hug, and with that hug Louis feels a bit of himself glue back together.

But even with things with Louis and Harry fixed, not everything is okay. With Zayn gone, money is even tighter than usual. Louis gets a job back at the bar, and so he goes back to his routine of working constantly. This time though, he doesn’t have Zayn to look after the twins so Lottie has to quit her job at the bakery. It’s difficult, but it’s life and Louis accepts that it’s what he has to do.

And on his days off, he makes sure he makes time for Harry. They go back to the park and sit under the tree they used to hang out by all the time, and they hold hands and Harry makes Louis laugh and Louis thinks that with Harry in his life things don’t feel as tough as they really are.

(Harry even gives Louis a blowjob in the trees behind the fountain in the park, but nobody needs to know about that.)

Harry gets a tattoo of a ship on his bicep, and when Louis mentions how much he loves it Harry pays for him to get one, too. Louis chooses a compass, and at first he worries that Harry might think matching tattoos are a bit ridiculous, or a bit scary, or a bit too permanent, but the way Harry kisses him when he sees it proves him wrong.

❀❀❀

Louis wants to flush his own head down the toilet when he gets a call at work that says Daisy needs to be picked up because she’s got the chicken pox. This is just what they all need right now. Not. He knows he can’t leave work now though, only has half an hour left until he can leave so he waits that half an hour and then rushes out of the building, whilst calling Harry on his mobile phone.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Oh,” Louis pauses, doesn’t know why Harry sounds so snappy, they’ve been doing so much better recently. “Well I was just wondering if you could drive by the girls’ school and pick them up? Daisy has chicken pox, apparently. I’m on my way, but I won’t be there for at least forty minutes.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Louis hears Harry grumble on the other side of the phone.

“You don’t have to,” Louis backtracks, feeling put out. “I won’t ask again if you’re going to be an arse about it.”

“No no, I’ll go.” Harry heaves out a sigh down the phone. “Same school as I’ve been to a thousand times before, I suppose.”

“Yes they haven’t switched schools, Harry,” Louis snaps. “Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” Harry barks. “I’m just having a hard time at Uni, something you obviously wouldn’t understand.”

Louis feels a stab of hurt. “Sorry I didn’t go to uni because I was making sure I had food on the table for my family. You make it sound like I was just dossing about doing nothing.”

“You know, Louis, you’re always feeling so sorry for yourself. Have you ever thought about the fact that some of the shit in your life is actually self-inflicted?”

Louis can’t believe Harry’s just said that. “You know what Harry, fuck you,” he snarls. “Of course it’s self-inflicted, of course it is, it all is. I just wished my mum to leave us, didn’t I? I obviously wanted to struggle with rent and warm water and electricity, didn’t I? Don't you dare throw it back in my face like that. Fuck you.”

And then he hangs up. He feels angry; frustrated that Harry honestly thinks he would have wished any of the stuff that has happened in his life on himself, on his girls. He’s tried his best with what he’s been given, and sometimes he feels like no one appreciates that.

When he gets to the road across from the underpass, Louis pauses. Normally, he wouldn’t even debate it, knows that the shortcut isn’t worth it. But he’s so angry is the thing, angry at Harry and angry at himself, and he’s not thinking straight. All he cares about is that Daisy’s sick and he doesn’t even know if Harry’s going to drive to the twins’ school, so the quickest way is the most preferable for today.

But god, does he regret it. The underpass is dark and smells of piss, and Louis scrunches his nose up and pulls his scarf tighter around his neck.

He’s about halfway through when he hears footsteps, sees a shadow coming towards him on the dingy concrete wall. When the person comes into view he analyses the situation rapidly. About six foot. Lanky. Hooded. Walking towards him with a purpose. Trouble.

He turns around, ready to bolt back the way he came, but there’s three more stood at the entrance of the underpass so he turns back around, still taking a small step back for every large step the hooded guy takes towards him. Louis’ heard too much about the muggings that take place here, knows all too well that not many come out in as many pieces as they entered. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he wonders idly if anyone else can hear it.

“Hand over your money,” the guy demands, and his accent is strong and unpleasant, obviously from the rough part of town. Louis wouldn’t be surprised if they’re neighbours and just haven’t recognised each other.

“I don’t have any,” Louis replies, cursing himself mentally for his voice breaking at the beginning. He doesn’t want to sound weak, even if he feels it. Even if he’s terrified out of his mind.

“Bullshit,” the guy snarls, getting all up in Louis’ face, chests almost touching.

Louis shakes his head and takes a step back, the hooded boy matching his movement. “Not bullshit. I swear.”

And then for a second Louis doubles over, because he’s been kneed in the ribs and all the air has rushed out of his lungs. He clutches his side and gasps desperately, as the guy pats Louis’ pockets and curses foully when he realises that Louis really doesn’t have any money, and his phone is a piece of shit from about 2002.

“Fuck you,” the guy snarls at him, and Louis vaguely registers that that is the exact last thing he said to Harry and his heart hurts with how much he regrets it, how much he wants Harry to know he didn’t mean it.

One of the guys from the other side of the underpass shouts, “Oi get on with it!”, and then Louis’ bustled into a standing position and shoved against the concrete wall. His eyes are suddenly wide with fear, and his body freezes up. He feels like he can’t do anything, can’t move, can’t scream, can only watch as the boy pulls a knife from his pocket and holds it up to Louis’ stomach.

The boy hesitates for a second, like he’s not quite sure if he’s going to do this, and Louis takes the moment to look around frantically, but there’s nothing he can do. He’s being pinned to the wall so that he can’t bolt, and he has no weapon of his own to fight his way out.

And then one of the other guys shouts, “C’mon, pussy!”

And Louis sees the decision in the boy’s eyes. He snaps his wrist forward and the knife plunges into Louis’ flesh, and he can only stand there as the boy pulls the knife back and then sprints away, his friends scattering with him. He doesn’t feel anything for a moment, and then it all rushes at him at once. 

Louis' first thought as he crumples to the ground is of blind, crushing panic. And it's not because of the fierce, searing pain ripping through his body. It's panic for the girls, his girls. How are they going to survive when Louis dies? How are they going to cope when Louis' not here to pay the rent and buy the food and iron their school uniforms?

The pain’s too much for a moment, and he vaguely feels warm liquid seeping out of his body and onto his hands. Everything seems slow, so slow and distant and wrong, and it takes him a minute to realise that that warm liquid on his hands is probably blood.

By the time he can sort his mind out, his next thoughts are still of the girls, but instead of worrying about them, he's thinking about how much he loves then, how much he will miss them. His funny twin girls; always optimistic, always there to cheer him up even though that shouldn't be their job. Fizzy; sensible, quiet, intelligent and so, so kind. Lottie; his best friend, old beyond her years, grown up too quickly, much like Louis had to. He'll miss four pairs of bright blue eyes staring up at him and asking what's for breakfast. He'll miss bedtime cuddles and sleepy smiles and kisses on his cheek. He'll miss his family so much he can barely breathe. But that might also be the stab wound, he’s not quite sure.

But finally, as his body's shutting down, overcome with firey pain, he thinks of him. Of the boy with the curls, with the silly tattoos, the boy who changed everything. The boy who taught him how to love someone other than his sisters and Zayn. The boy who took him to the countryside and sat with him in the park and told him he loved him. The boy who means everything, the boy who has meant everything since the first time Louis saw him, dancing alone in a club all goofy and clumsy and just typical Harry. Harry. The name rips through Louis' brain like wildfire. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to leave Harry. He wants one more night of Harry cuddles and Harry kisses and Harry's sweet whispers that everything will be okay. He wishes Harry were with him now. Wishes Harry was holding his hand as he’s taking his final breaths. Wishes he could tell Harry he loves him one more time. 

But as much as he tries, the darkness evades Louis' eyes and mind like a disease and he can't force it away. He keeps thinking of Harry, thinks of the time he fell off the kitchen chair and spaghetti landed all over him, and Louis smiles. He smiles, knowing that his last thought is of the boy he loves. 

And for now, that's enough.


	11. waking up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sadness but also happiness and fluff and a bit o' smut

xi. - waking up. 

 

Louis’ not dead, he realises, as he hears beeping of what can only be hospital machines. He knows the sound only too well, having spent countless days here as a child after one of his mother’s many encounters of overdoses or alcohol poisoning.

He tries to force his eyes open but they’re so heavy he can’t get them to budge. He wants water, too, his throat feeling so dry and rough. He tries to speak and his voice won’t work either, so for now he’s stuck with only his own mind for company.

He thinks back to what has happened, why on earth he would be in a hospital bed, and it comes back in a flash: him fighting with Harry, the underpass, the boy with the knife. He gasps at the memory, and the sharp intake of air has him feeling winded, the pain shooting through his stomach clouding his mind. It hurts like hell and he wants to swear, and then he finds his voice does work after all.

“Holy shit, fucking wanker!”

It’s not the most elegant of phrases but it does the job. He suddenly hears movement in the room, someone with light shoes on moving around his bed and from what he can make out, fiddling with the machine so the noise turns off.

“Hi Louis dear, can you open your eyes for me? Think you can give it a go?” The nurse, or at least Louis guesses that’s who it is, has a kind voice, and Louis finds himself wanting to please her even though he feels all sleepy again.

“Ungh,” he mumbles, using all his strength to blink his eyes open. He’s thinking about how he never knew eyelids could be so heavy, when he comes face to face with an old-ish woman who is smiling at him knowingly.

“Confused?” She smirks, and there’s a bit of sass there that Louis instantly likes.

“Just a tad,” he replies, his voice so croaky and painful that the nurse instantly moves his electronic bed slowly into a sitting position so she can help him to a drink of water. “Does anyone know I’m here?” He says in a bit of a panic when he’s finally got a hold of his mind. “Can you ring someone for me?”

The nurse, Pat, just chuckles. “Lottie, right?”

Louis just stares at her.

“She’s been round here every single day, god knows how much school she’s missed,” Pat rolls her eyes. “Been trying to get her to leave but she every day she refuses.”

“Then where…” Louis trails off, eyes flittering around the room.

“She’s at the bakery, dear. That’s where she works, yes?”

Louis feels a crushing of disappointment, shame that his sister has once again had to surrender her time and effort to that horrible boss at the bakery. He should have tried better, he thinks. He should have never used the fucking underpass, he thinks.

There’s panic in his eyes next time he looks up at the nurse. “What about the twins? I mean, uh, young blonde girls, pretty much identical, my other sisters? Do you know them, too? And Fizzy! Fizzy too? Are they all okay?”

Pat has a disapproving look on her face as she leans over to fiddle with a machine. “They’re all fine, completely fine. Visit every single evening. But you’re going to have to calm down for me Louis or I’m going to have to put more painkillers in and they’re going to make you drowsy.”

“Okay,” Louis agrees instantly, taking deep breaths. He’ll do anything to see his sisters, can’t stop thinking about how stupid he was, how inconsiderate, how he’s left them with no food and no money. He can’t stop thinking about something else too, someone, but he daren’t let himself dwell on the boy with the curly hair, can’t bear the thought that that last fight might have been the relationship’s end. “What do you mean ‘every evening?’” Louis asks instead.

Pat’s on the way to the door now, obviously having other things to get on with. She turns around at his question, and Louis can’t decide if he hates or loves how blunt she seems to be about everything. No pity, no worry, just honesty. “You’ve been out for almost three weeks. They didn’t know what had happened to you until the guy who found you went to visit your house. They were so panicked when they got here, the whole bunch crying and snotty and begging to see you. Your boy’s been in that waiting room for almost the whole time.” The nurse rolls her eyes, and if this were any other situation he would roll his too about the fact that she is obviously so fond of Harry, just like every single person the curly haired boy meets. “Tell him to go home and take a shower, will you?”

Louis’ breath catches in his throat. “He’s here?”

“Of course.” And then she leaves.

Louis tries to regulate his heartbeat, but it’s pounding in his chest, the knowledge that Harry is here and so close and obviously still cares filling him with hope. He hears Pat’s voice call down the corridor, something about how Harry might want to get in there.

The boy who runs into the room is not a boy Louis recognises at first. 

His hair is droopy and greasy, limp curls hanging around his face. His cheeks look more hollow than before, his eyes sunken and empty. He looks like he hasn't slept in months. 

"WHAT'S HAPPENED?" Harry's screaming as he bursts through the door, hinges screeching in protest as the door slams into the wall. "IS HE -"

Harry stops dead, feet freezing mid run so he stumbles a little before righting himself. He's staring at Louis, expression almost comical, or would be if it was under a different circumstance. Louis doesn't quite know what to do, confused about where they stand and what's happened and what Harry's going to say about their last fight, so he just offers him a timid, nervous smile. 

"Lou?" Harry chokes out, voice rough and raw and hoarse. 

Louis' smile grows a little. "Hi."

And then Harry takes one step closer to the bed, almost in arms reach, but then sinks to his knees. He starts weeping, curls up on himself, the only sound in the room the high sounding, heartbreaking sobs escaping his mouth, if a little bit muffled from where his face is shoved into his legs. 

Louis sits stunned for only a second, before he's pushing himself up into a sitting position and ripping IVs out of his arm, ignoring the dizziness in favour of wanting to get to his boy, of needing to get to his boy. 

He pushes himself off the bed but the muscles in his legs haven't been used in days and they fail him. He wobbles to the ground but manages to catch himself with his palms, crawling like a child over to Harry. 

As soon as he's near enough to touch, Louis' tugging Harry into his arms, tucking the boy’s head under his chin. 

"You're okay," Louis whispers, placing kisses to every inch of Harry’s head he can reach. "You're okay, we're okay. I love you, it's all going to be okay."

And if that's how Pat finds them half an hour later, Harry having cried himself unconscious in Louis' arms, she doesn't even get mad at the injured boy for getting out of bed. She can tell that a little bit of him has healed just by holding the curly haired boy in his arms. 

And for now, that's enough. 

❀❀❀ 

"So Liam Payne was the one who found me?" Louis asks a few hours later once he's been forced back into bed. 

Harry's sat on a chair next to the bed, keeps intertwining their hands together and then almost immediately untangling them to play with Louis' fingers and compare the width of their palms. He kisses Louis' fingertips like it's the most important thing in the world. Like he needs to do it or he'll die. 

"Yeah," Harry says softly. He looks up at Louis and then looks back down to their hands. "We were so lucky. He said he knew you, so he could give your name to the ambulance and they could get your medical history up. And then he came by the house and told Lottie what happened, and she rang me in tears, I could barely understand her."

He takes a deep breath, and Louis squeezes his fingers in encouragement. 

"They said you..." Harry takes a deep breath. He drops Louis' hand and leans his elbows forward on the mattress, rests his face in his hands. "They said you'd almost bled out." His voice is rising higher and higher, panic bleeding into the words. "They said they couldn't get you to wake up, and that that much blood loss is so dangerous that you… That you..." 

Louis reaches his hand out and pets Harry's hair as the other boy cries. "Ssh Haz," he whispers. "You don't have to continue."

"No." Harry digs the heel of his hands into his eyes as if that's going to stop the tears forming. "No I know you want to know." He waits a minute or so and then takes an audibly deep breath. "They said you weren't going to make it. Said that I should make the girls say their goodbyes because we couldn't keep our hopes up that you would ever wake up."

He looks up at Louis then, eyes wild and panicky even though he knows that Louis is here and alive and looking right at him. 

"But how could I?" He says, and he's almost shouting now. "How could I say to those precious, terrified girls that oh your brother’s dying in there go and see him for the last time why don't you? How could I say that to Lottie and Fizzy, the twins?! It was impossible. So I told them instead to hold your hand and change your socks and we made songs about what we were going to do when you woke up and the twins made you cards at school and I was smiling at them, telling them how wonderful their stick men drawings were but on the inside I was dying, Lou. If you were dying, I was dying and I slept in your clothes every night, and I made a cup of tea just how you like every morning, and pretended you were just upstairs asleep whilst I got the girls ready for school." His voice has dropped to a whisper again. "And god I missed you. Fucking hell I missed you so much."

❀❀❀

Louis loves Harry, of course he does. He's so happy they're reunited, and still together, and he missed him even when he was comatose and didn't know how to miss. But the happiness he feels when his girls fly through the door overtakes everything he's ever felt. 

They're all screaming different variations of his name, throwing themselves at his bed and clinging to his limbs. Well, all except Lottie who walks calmly into the room with such a typical Lottie scowl on her face that Louis can't help but begin to laugh through the happy tears streaming down his face. 

He can't get a proper word in for at least five minutes, Daisy and Phoebe shouting over each other and trying to tell Louis as much as possible about what he's missed. Fizzy's head is resting on his chest and she's crying so hard his hospital gown is drenched. Every few minutes she glances up at Louis and gives him a watery grin before resuming her crying. 

"OKAY OKAY!" Louis shouts after the girls’ babbling is starting to make his headache worse. “I love you guys but please shut up.” The twins clamp their mouths shut immediately, and then simultaneously turn to each other and slap the other twin’s arm as if to say how dare you annoy Louis.

He turns to Harry and nods his head in the direction of Lottie, and then down to the girls and then over to the door. Harry nods, understanding, and then slaps his hands on his thighs and gets up from his chair.

“Daisy, Pheebs, let’s go get some food for Lou, yeah?” The twins jump up from the bed obediently and race over to the door. “Fizz, you want to come too? We’ll get you some tissues, kay sweetie?” Harry’s voice is soft and affectionate, and Louis loves him so much.

When the door is finally closed and the room once again silent, Louis finally gets to turn his attention to his eldest sister.

“Gunna ignore me for the rest of your life?” Louis teases, trying to make Lottie look at him. She’s sat at the other side of the room, eyes buried in her phone, purposefully hasn’t made eye contact the entire time. “Lottieeeeeeeeeeeeeee,” Louis whines. “Come and talk to me, I’ve missed you.”

That makes her eyes snap up. “You’ve missed me?” She snaps, voice harsh. “You have missed me?” She stands up and stalks slowly to the end of Louis’ bed, talking all the while. “Do you even know what I’ve gone through these past weeks? Do you know how fucking hard it’s been trying to pay rent and buy food and go to school when I’ve had three crying girls sobbing to me every night about the fact that you were probably going to die? Do you have any idea what it’s been like? Do you even care?”

“Lottie I -” Louis starts, but Lottie interrupts him.

“I hate you so much!” She shouts, flinging her arms in the air. “You are so fucking selfish!”

And then she throws herself around the bed and into Louis’ waiting arms, crying just like the rest of them had.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis says, brushing her hair out of her face. “I’m not going anywhere again, I swear to you. I’m never leaving again.”

❀❀❀

The next few days are a whirl of Harry and the girls and Louis’ whole body aching. Zayn calls and cries (Louis’ beginning to wonder when people are going to stop crying when they talk to him) and tells him that he wanted to come down but Harry told him not to. He doesn’t mention anything about money, but Lottie tells him the only reason they had hot water and central heating the past few weeks is because of Zayn. Louis reminds himself not to be so mean to his best friend the next time he sees him.

Louis’ not allowed to go home for a week, mostly because of the stab wound that is still healing. It hurts to walk, but he’s getting his stamina back. The pain’s there almost constantly, but Louis can’t find it in himself to care. The next time Harry got Louis alone he broke down and told Louis of the guilt he’s been feeling, the weight of the fact that it was his fault Louis walked down that underpass. The older boy denies it of course, reminds Harry he wasn’t the one who thrust a knife into his stomach. Harry doesn’t seem convinced, but Louis’ lips on his shut him up rather effectively.

❀❀❀

By the end of the week, Louis is… well, a ragingly horny devil. He can’t keep his hands off Harry, can’t stop touching his curls and his dimples and his biceps. Harry refuses to do anything with him though, refuses even hand jobs under the blankets in fear of a nurse walking in.

Louis thinks it’s probably the fact that a) it’s been over a month since he had any contact to his nether regions, but more importantly b) he and Harry seem to have finally got back into that honeymoon stage of the relationship, have gotten over fighting over petty stuff, have realised what it is like to be without one another and have found they never want to go through that ever again.

So by the time Louis gets back to the house (which, even though Lottie has tried her best, is an absolute mess), he’s gagging to just drop to his knees for Harry.

His ever loving boyfriend, though, tucks him into bed and demands he doesn’t move for the rest of the day. It doesn’t help Louis’ case that Harry ordering him around kind of just turns him on even more.

“Harry!” Louis hisses when the girls are finally in bed and sound asleep, having spent the five hours since they’ve been back from school jumping around and celebrating and being even more overly hyper than usual because they’re so happy their brother’s back. Even Lottie cracked a smile before she headed to the bakery.

“Louis, no.” Harry says without even turning around from where he’s folding his clothes.

“Harryyyy,” he whines, hitting his head up and down on the pillow. “I’m just so fucking horny, and you’re so fit and beautiful and lovely and nice and I just really want to fuck you.”

“Language!” Harry scolds in a whisper, blushing as he turns to face the other boy. Louis thinks he’s absolutely adorable. “The girls are in the next room.”

“Not like we haven’t done it before.”

Harry’s resulting blush is enough confirmation.

“Are you telling me you don’t want me even a little bit?” Louis asks, and it was actually meant to be a joke but then he realises that what he’s just said could actually be true and suddenly his face is one of panic. “Wait, is it that? Do you not find me attractive any more? Because I swear, if it’s the wound it’s all covered up and stuff and it’s looking much better and - ”

Harry cuts in, rolling his eyes in a way that he’s so obviously inherited from Louis he feels kind of smug. “Of course not, you idiot. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and if I could have sex with you right now then believe me I would be. But as it is,” Harry slides in under the duvet next to Louis, “I love your health more than I love your dick. Although it is a close one.”

With that, he turns off the light and snuggles in next to Louis, careful with where he places his arm so as not to hit the sore patch, and falls asleep within seconds. Louis huffs to himself, but can’t feel too put off since this is the first time he’s slept next to Harry in so long he can’t budge the happiness bubbling up inside him. It feels like home.

❀❀❀

Louis thinks that Harry should have known that he is nothing if not stubborn.

For the next few days Louis decides to make it his mission in life to get Harry to give up this, in his opinion, absolutely unreasonable no sex ban thing he has going on.

He’s tried it all: slipping his hand down Harry’s pants when he’s not expecting it, lying stark naked on the bed when he can hear Harry coming up the stairs, leaving lube and condoms in all of Harry’s clothes pockets.

He’s gotten to the point where he’s not even being subtle anymore. He tries wanking himself off in front of Harry whilst the girls are at school but all the curly haired boy does is sigh and shout, “God Louis, you’re being insufferable!” and leave to go to uni.

If Louis would have known that crying would have been the most successful option, then he would have done that at the start.

Ultimately he’s not crying because he wants sex; it’s just been a bad day and he smashed a plate and he’s been stuck in this house for days and he’s just so frustrated.

So when Harry gets home after being out with some friends, he finds Louis in bed weeping, snot dribbling down above his upper lip.

“What’s wrong baby?” He coos when he sees Louis, crawling over the mattress to get to him. He wipes Louis’ tears away with his fingertips.

Louis shrugs and stares down at his hands, wringing his fingers together, feeling pathetic. “Dunno, I’m just being stupid. I just feel so… so useless. I sit here whilst Lottie goes to work and I sit here whilst Fizzy cleans the house and I sit here while you bath the twins and I just can’t do anything. It’s driving me insane. And when I do try to do something it goes wrong, all because of my fucking pathetic stab wound!”

Harry chuckles softly. “A stab wound is definitely not pathetic. And you’re not useless Lou, you’re still cooking tea and helping the girls with their homework and making them laugh.”

A few more tears slip down Louis’ face. He feels like he’s on his man period. “And I’m getting fat from sitting here all day and all night.” He pinches a bit of fat on his stomach and scowls down at it.

“You’re not fat, Louis.” Harry pulls Louis’ arms down from where he’s crossed them, trying to hide that teeny weeny podgy stomach. “I love your stomach.” He places a kiss just above Louis’ belly button. “And I love you no matter what, so stop worrying, okay? You’re gorgeous.”

One more tear escapes Louis’ eye. He’s just feeling overly emotional and he can’t seem to get his feelings in check. “Harry,” he whispers. He pulls Harry’s hand and places it between his legs. “If I am gorgeous Harry, then show me. Please Harry. Please.” He’s sobbing quietly, doesn’t quite know what’s gotten into him but feels like if he doesn’t get his hands on Harry or Harry’s hands on him right now he might die.

Harry looks torn. “Lou, you’re hurt. It could ruin the stitches.”

“I don’t care,” Louis pleads, desperate for Harry’s touch and affection and love, anything to make him feel better about himself. “I need something, anything. Please.”

“I…” Harry doesn’t seem to have any excuses to give.

“I won’t strain myself; I won’t do anything. You ride me yeah? Or I’ll just suck you off. Whatever. Up to you. I’ll be careful I swear. I just… I need this. Need to feel something other than this.”

Harry kisses away the last of the tears dripping down Louis’ cheek, and just as Louis thinks he’s been defeated, thinks he’s going to have go to bed hard and feeling like shit, Harry’s hand pulls down his boxers.

He grips Louis’ dick gently but firmly, and Louis’ gasping already, the touch stimulating and fierce.

“Fuck,” he gasps as Harry lowers him down into a lying position. Louis kicks off his boxers, even though it takes all his will power to do it since Harry slowly wanking him off is driving him insane.

“Stay still, Lou,” Harry warns as he stops his hand and slides his body down Louis’ so his face is hovering over Louis’ crotch. Louis’ back has arched even from just the anticipation, but Harry’s hand is there to clamp down his hip and remind him he’s meant to be being careful.

Louis nods, a bit frantic, and then Harry’s sliding his mouth down Louis’ shaft so easily that Louis lets out a choking moan. Harry’s free hand comes up to stick his fingers in Louis’ mouth to muffle the sounds escaping, but it just turns Louis on even more and he licks around Harry’s fingers so eagerly he can tell Harry’s mouth is curving into a smile. Well, as much as a smile as possible with a dick in your mouth.

It only takes a couple of minutes of Harry bobbing up and down, tongue running along the veins, until Louis’ gently tugging at Harry’s hair. Harry comes up to meet Louis’ mouth with his own, and they kiss for minutes, Louis forgetting for a while about how desperate he was for sex, just concentrating on how lovely Harry’s plush lips feel sliding across his own, how their tongues dance timidly together.

Harry sits up then, shuffling off Louis and standing up. He strips quickly, stumbling when his jeans get caught around his feet, and Louis giggles but his eyes are glinting because he may be clumsy but Harry is so, so sexy.

Harry perches on the bed on his knees then, and Louis is waiting for him to crawl back over but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes the fingers that are still wet from Louis’ mouth and starts opening himself up. He starts opening himself up. Louis’ pretty certain he has drool dripping down his chin but he can’t find it in himself to close his mouth. Harry’s all lean torso and broad shoulders, face making the prettiest of expressions when his fingers reach that one part inside him. He’s making little keening noises, and Louis can’t take it any longer; grabbing his dick he starts stroking himself quickly, the sight in front of him almost too much to bear. He keeps closing his eyes because he feels too overwhelmed, but then at the same time he doesn’t want to miss a moment of it so every time just ends up opening his eyes again after a few seconds.

It feels like it takes forever but then Louis’ eyes are snapped open by another hand joining his, this one smothered in cool slippery lube. Harry bats his hand away and slicks him up quickly, before swinging his leg over so he’s straddling over Louis’ waist. Louis lifts his hands up to grip the other boy’s hips and he can do nothing but squeeze his eyes shut and will himself not to come too prematurely as Harry positions himself above Louis’ dick.

He doesn’t bottom out straight away, just slides a couple of inches down Louis’ cock and then back up again, making Louis want more more more more. Harry slides down again, up and down half of Louis’ length and both of them are moaning, Louis’ fingertips digging into Harry’s hip chub in a way that is probably verging on painful.

When Louis feels like he can’t take it any longer, suddenly Harry bottoms out, his arse cheeks resting on Louis’ thighs. The feeling is so overwhelming, Louis kind of feels like a virgin again.

But then Harry’s bouncing and Louis can’t think at all.

He starts lifting his hips to meet Harry’s thrusts and the other boy has his head flung back in pleasure, doesn’t even bother telling Louis off because he’s meant to be staying still. Louis reaches out and starts jerking Harry off with one hand, the other alternating between gripping Harry’s hip and stroking his hair.

Just before he comes, Harry leans down and attaches their lips together, and then he’s spilling all over both of their stomachs. Harry clenching around him sends him over the edge and Louis’ orgasm hits him so hard he sees white for at least twenty seconds.

And then he comes down, and Harry’s kissing his face and frantically checking that he’s alright. He is, of course, and Louis tells him so with a gentle kiss to his forehead.

They settle down under the duvet curled together, and Louis doesn’t care if they’re going to feel all gross and sticky in the morning.

He’ll deal with all their problems in the morning. For now, he’s alive… and he’s just had really great sex.

And for now, that’s enough.

❀❀❀

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meh i'm really not too pleased with this chapter but i didn't know what else to do with it so there you go. sorry for the wait!
> 
> ONE CHAPTER LEFT I REPEAT ONE CHAPTER LEFT *sobs*


	12. the end.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will harry and louis get a happily ever after?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO THIS IS THE END! 
> 
> this story has been my baby and I really hope you have enjoyed it!
> 
> love, laura x

xii. – the end.

Louis’ waving Harry and the girls off from the doorstep when he picks up the letter that’s been posted through the door. He’s humming as he rips the envelope open, singing that one song off Niall’s new demo CD. His eyes scan over the words, expecting a bill or perhaps a new letter from Zayn.

But then he has to stop moving; his eyes run over the handwritten words again and then again and once more and suddenly his chest has constricted. He drops the letter and slides down the wall and he feels like he can’t breathe. He’s choking on the air in his throat as he rereads the injuries to her head were fatal. There are tears streaming down his face that he doesn’t remember started, even though he’s aware that this is not something he should be crying over. He wipes them away furiously, but he can’t stop crying.

His mother… well she was never a good parent to him. She didn’t hold his hand when they were crossing the road or make him breakfast in the mornings before school. But there were good times, must have been at least a few good memories hidden deep down somewhere. And she’s… she’s dead. Gone forever. He can’t stop crying. A mother is a mother, he thinks, whether she was good to him or not. And now she’s gone. 

'Dear Louis', the letter reads.

'My name is Dan, and I am so sorry we are meeting under these circumstances. I am your mother’s husband… or, well, was her husband, I suppose. I know you and Johannah hadn’t spoken for a long, long time, and she always told me that you would never forgive her for the way she once was. But please believe me when I say that she talked about you every single day. You and Charlotte and Fizzy and the twins, she never stopped talking about you. Especially you, with your cheeky grin, she would say, and your lovely eyes, and the way you looked after her when it was not your job. 

She used to say how proud of you she was, how she knows that even though she failed at being a good parent to you, she knows that the girls were going to grow up nothing less than amazing if left in your hands. She regretted leaving you so very much, I have never seen her look so fond than when she would open up her purse and there was a tiny photo of you smiling back at her. 

But Louis, I have some news, and I am so deeply sorry I cannot give you this news in person, but see myself and Jay had two children of our own, two baby twins, and I cannot leave them. Your mother was walking to the shops… and was hit by a car last Thursday afternoon, and unfortunately… devastatingly, the injuries to her head were fatal. Turning her life support machine off was the most painful thing I have and will ever have to do. I am so lost without her. 

I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this, and I understand if you will not be attending the funeral or be contacting me again. But please, Louis. She was my wife, and she became such a loving, kind, selfless person, and she wanted to reach out to you, and I honestly think if she had been given more time on this earth you would have rekindled your relationship, I truly do believe that. She loved you so very much.  
I am so sorry.'

❀❀❀  
Louis watches from the doorway as Harry breaks the news to the girls. He feels like he’s in a movie, he can barely hear what’s going on from the ringing in his ears, all he can do is watch as the twins' hands close together, and as Fizzy starts crying. The twins start crying too, even though they do not have even one memory of their mother. Lottie shrugs, like she is not one bit affected, but Louis can see that her nose keeps scrunching up minutely, like she’s trying not to break down in front of everyone, like she’s waiting to be alone before she can. She’s so much like her brother in that aspect.

The funeral is the next week, and Harry doesn’t let go of his hand the entire time. Louis has never been more grateful for him in his life. They meet Dan and Doris and Ernest, and through the heartbreak Louis is completely awestruck by how lovely the little babies are. Dan pulls him into a hug and tells him he can see the resemblance. He calls him son, and Louis waits until Dan’s walked away to greet some more family members before hiding his face in the juncture between Harry’s shoulder and neck and begins to softly cry.

The speeches are long and overwhelming, and Louis finds that he cannot stop staring at the photo of his mother standing up there at the front. It’s like her blue eyes are staring right into his soul.

He’s been through so much because of this woman, he considers as some distant relative is crying up on the podium. Has built up so much hatred that she’s forced him and the girls into this life. He hates her for leaving that dreadful day, for allowing him to come home to an empty house and not know what’s going on, leaving him with four young girls and no money, no food, no support. He hates her for ripping his childhood away from him, for forcing his girls into a life of poverty and present-less birthdays. He hates her. He hates her so so much. And yet, he feels like a part of him has just been lost.

Because she was a terrible mother. But she unknowingly gave him so much. She gave him the undivided love of his sisters, the four girls that he loves more than he ever thought was possible. She gave him Zayn, who has become a brother, not just a childhood friend who stuck by him on the playground. She gave him strength and courage and determination, and the drive to achieve a better life for his family.

And she gave him Harry.

Louis doesn’t often think about what ifs, or what could have beens, because he finds it brings him nothing but unhappiness. But he thinks, knows, that if everything hadn’t happened the way it had, if he hadn’t been dragged to that grimy nightclub by Niall and seen that lanky, goofy boy dancing in the crowd, he wouldn’t be any fraction as happy as he is now. Harry is the best thing to have ever happened to him, even though Louis would never admit it to anyone. Harry is the sun and moon and everything in between, he’s the stars and the clouds and the rain. He’s a flower even though Louis was only a weed. He’s the loveliest person Louis has ever met.

So as Dan’s speech comes to the end, Louis leans his head on Harry’s shoulder, feels the other boy’s hand gently squeeze his waist. Harry places a kiss to the top of his head, and Louis takes one last look at his mother’s face, her kind blue eyes smiling back at him, eyes that he used to know a time that feels like forever ago. He lets himself smile back for a moment, closes his eyes, and whispers a silent thank you that is soon taken away by the wind.

❀❀❀  
F O U R Y E A R S L A T E R 

“Daisy, Phoebe, will you please get your shoes on we’re about to be late for school!” Louis shouts through the hallway. He mutters to himself about how some things never change, and then the thirteen year old girls are racing through to him, babbling and arguing and shoving each other down the corridor. Louis can’t help the bubble of fondness that races up through his chest.

He drops the twins at school and Fizzy at her sixth form and then on his way to uni calls Lottie up on his Bluetooth ear piece and listens to her ramble on about how great her year abroad in America is going, and how well she’s doing in her internship, and how she’s missing her boyfriend Josh but knows they’ll see each other soon enough. Louis is so happy for her and so proud of her, and he tells her so. She tells him to ‘shut the fuck up’ but Louis can tell she’s smiling, can picture the exact expression on her face even if she is an ocean away. He misses her every single day, but she’s making it big out there, and he wants nothing but the best for the girl who has always stuck by him.

So much has changed, he thinks, as he sits through his last ever lecture. His final exams are a couple of weeks away and then he’ll be graduating, and then he’ll be able to get a job as a drama teacher or a director or anything that he puts his mind to. Will finally be able to provide properly for his family.

It turned out his mother had left them a fat sum of money. It was like a message from the heavens when he found out; he hadn’t been able to pay rent and they were about to be thrown out onto the streets. But then… then they were alright. More than alright, actually. Louis and Lottie and the girls picked out a house in the same town, but in a much nicer area. With five bedrooms it is big enough for everyone to have their own room, even though the twins still insist on sharing. It has a garden, and a double garage, and Louis still comes home every day in awe that he lives here. It was enough money to buy a car, and get him through university, and Lottie and the girls too if that’s what they choose.

And even though life is good, wonderful even, hot water and central heating galore, some days Louis can’t stop himself from driving through his old neighbourhood. He’ll drop in at Cara’s and take her flowers and food and blankets, for she denies any other kind of money he tries to give her. He’ll stop outside his old house, and park the car next to the sidewalk, and stare up at the place in which he created both his best and his worst memories. And maybe he’ll cry a little, for some part of him can’t help but to miss that house where the twins learned to walk, and Fizzy painted his bedroom, and Lottie lost her virginity (he pretends he doesn’t know that part). Where Harry become such an integral part of his life.

Harry. He’s still such constant in Louis’ life, still the highlight of his day and highlight of his night. The love of his life, really, if he was forced to admit to it. He moved in officially about a year after Louis bought the house, after Louis gradually began to notice Harry’s clothes taking up half the dresser… and then his camera stored in the bedside table… and then half of his possessions were taking up the place and Louis just laughed and asked a very sheepish Harry if he’d like to move in.

Louis makes his way home after his lectures and Zayn and Perrie have finally arrived to stay for a week, are waiting in the driveway with grins on their faces.

“ZAYNIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Louis shouts, his elderly neighbour Mr Endersby scowling from where he’s stood pruning one of the bushes in his garden.

He runs over and smashes into Zayn’s opened arms and stays there for a few seconds, trying to subtly inhale the familiar smell of his best friend who he hasn’t seen in almost six months. His and Perrie’s wedding two years ago was gorgeous, and Louis spent the better half of it crying with happiness into a napkin and pretending it was due to hayfever.

Perrie makes a disgruntled noise after a while, wanting attention, so Louis pushes Zayn’s arms off and goes over to the heavily pregnant girl, but not before smacking a loud wet kiss to his best friend’s forehead. Zayn makes a disgusted sound and wipes away the slobber but he’s grinning.

Louis kisses Perrie on the cheek and gives her a gentle hug and then kneels down in front of her stomach and starts petting it a bit like a dog.

“Hey little nephew or niece,” Louis coos affectionately to Perrie’s bump. “I’m Uncle Louis and you’re going to love me very much. I will be the cool uncle, the one you run away to when your dad’s being a prick.” Zayn slaps Louis over the head. “I’m not going to judge you on your gender,” Louis sighs, “I do my love girls... but oh lord if you’re a boy I’m going to love you forever please be a boy there are too many girls around here please please please little Malik child, please just be a boy for me!”

“Stop bullying my child into being a boy,” Perrie laughs, her arm wound around Louis’ waist as they walk into the house.

“You’re going to cry when they’re born either way.” Zayn interjects. “You’re such a sap nowadays Tommo.”

Louis tries to come up with something that’s going to defend himself but he’s got nothing so instead he sticks his foot out and trips Zayn up as he walks past to go into the living room.

❀❀❀

Harry calls just as Louis’ making tea in the kitchen, the twins doing their homework at the table. Fizzy brings the house phone in and grabs an apple from the side, Louis snatching it back from her hands and warning her tea’s almost ready.

“Hey Haz, where are you love?” Louis says, sandwiching the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he stirs the sauce.

“M’ in the driveway,” Harry’s deep voice mumbles.

“Okay, you nearly home? Food’s almost done, Pez and Zayn have been here about three hours, she’s just taking a nap. Dan called and said they couldn't make it.”

“I’m in the driveway. Come out will you?”

“What? Haz I still need to set the table and find that set of spare cutlery and - ”

“Louis Tomlinson! Will you please come outside?”

He sounds so stern that Louis huffs out a sigh and mumbles an okay, before putting the phone down and switching off the oven so the chicken doesn’t burn. When he turns around, the girls are nowhere to be seen… the house oddly silent.

He makes his way through the house, switching off lights and kicking shoes out the way. He pads to the door in his bare feet, expecting Harry to be sat in his car whining about how he spilled his Starbucks on the passenger seat like the ten thousand other times he has. Louis wonders if he’s ever going to learn how to use the cup holders like he’s mentioned.

But then.

Perrie and Zayn aren’t upstairs after all, and Louis frowns when he sees the twins and Fizzy stood on the driveway too, not wearing shoes so their socks will be all dirty. He’s about the reprimand them, but his eyes sweep along the line of people stood in front of his car and his hands fly up to his face to cover his mouth.

Lottie’s there, grinning, and Josh is next to her. Louis feels water filling up his eyes but he’s grinning too big for the tears to drop.

And only then does he realise what’s going on.

They’re all stood in a line, and in each of their hands they’re holding up a piece of paper with big giant letters drawn out on them.

W I L L Y O U M A R R Y M E it spells out. (Phoebe’s holding the A upside down, and Daisy elbows her in the side before helping her flip it up the right way.)

Louis starts shaking his head slowly, like this isn’t happening. Because this cannot be happening.

But it is, it definitely is. He scrubs at his eyes with his fists and when he opens them everyone’s still there, smiling at him, Perrie with tears slipping down her cheeks.

His eyes finally drag to the figure who’s kneeling on the ground: Harry, with a smile so big his dimples are like craters. He’s holding the last piece of paper, one with a big black question mark on it, and he slowly outstretches his right hand, fist opening so his palm’s lying face up.

Louis can’t stand still then, stumbles forward in his bare feet over the paving stones and stops a foot away from Harry. He stares down into the curly haired boy’s hand, and there, on his large smooth palm, is a candy heart sweet like that one birthday of Harry’s. It reads, will you marry me?

Louis does cry then. “Fuck off Zayn,” he laughs through his tears, pointing firmly at his best friend, knowing full well he’s going to be teased about this later on. He looks down at Harry, who’s beaming up at him. “Well?” Louis demands, gesturing to the words on Harry’s hand. “Aren’t you going to ask me properly?”

Harry barks out a laugh. “Demanding as always.”

Louis just juts out his hip and waits for the question he never thought he’d hear in his entire life. Never thought it would be something he was lucky enough for. Especially with someone as lovely as Harry.

“Louis Tomlinson,” Harry grins, still on one knee, “Will you marry me?”

❀❀❀

That night lying in bed, Louis realises he’s never been this happy in his entire life. Doesn’t think he’ll ever be happier than he is in this moment.

Harry walks out of the ensuite in his boxers, switching the light off as he comes to slide into the bed. He’s taller than when Louis first met him, more toned, hair having gone through at least three major hair styles till he decided to stick with the short pushed back curls. Louis doesn’t care what he looks like, though; he’s well aware he’ll be loving this boy until they’re both ninety and crippled with grey hair and walking sticks. He’s never going to let him go.

The night has been the best Louis can remember – all the girls here, Lottie included, Josh too and Zayn and Perrie and Harry of course. Everyone Louis loves under one roof. Bar Niall of course, but he’s been off doing his music stuff and couldn’t make it. Texted Louis to say congrats though, with a load of beer emojis afterward.

“Hey fiancé,” Harry says once he’s under the duvet, snuggling up to the other boy. Louis presses his cold feet up against his calves, just because he knows it annoys him.

“Hey fiancé,” Louis repeats, pressing a kiss to Harry’s jaw. “Thanks so much for getting Lottie over, it’s been the best night ever.”

“Anything for you m'dear,” Harry says. “I love you, you know. You and the girls. So very much.”

Louis buries his head in the pillow to hide his happy tears. Harry’s smiling at him and it’s like nothing else in the world matters but him.

“And for now, that’s enough.”

“For now?” 

“Forever.”

❀❀❀


End file.
